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stu-dyingstudent · 4 months ago

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third war continued/Sakura sent to war prematurely fic recs

Okay, I'll be completely honest, this is one of my ultimate favourite tropes when it comes to Sakura-centric fanfiction! Unfortunately, there really isn't too many of these out there and most are not completed, so if you know of any more then please send them my way. I'm begging.

Started: 2024.07.23

Last Updated: 2024.07.23

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Your Move, Instigator (draw your weapon and hold your tongue) - Laysan_albatross || ao3|| third war extended AU || complete

“We are still under wartime policy,” the recruiter had told her parents. He had an envelope in his hand. He sounded sorry. “She has two parents who are successful ninjas. We would be remiss to overlook her potential based upon that alone.” The Third Shinobi War never ended. Konoha needs more soldiers, grabbing anyone who can fight, especially those who can't say no.

You guys, I love this one to death. It's definitely a darker take on the Naruto universe, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. The civilian born shinobi are deemed as more expendable and thus thrown into war while the clan born remain sheltered. I found it quite interesting that the Uchiha were also lobbed into this group, but it was more done as punishment instead. Very raw and properly gets across the devastation that this brings.

still waters by Vulpecula_et_Anser || ao3 || gen || M || Sakura sent to war early AU || one-shot complete

Sakura is twelve when she queues up in front a desk with a bunch of other equally-terrified looking shinobi. The ages range from younger than her to old enough to be her grandpa. The man sitting at the desk is stony-faced as he doles out assignments. Sakura obediently shuffles forward when it is her turn, and recites her shinobi identification number in a shaky voice when asked. When the provost marshal looks at her, looks down at his paper, looks back at her, and grimaces, Sakura knows it’s not going to be good. OR How Sakura survives the war, told in bits and pieces.

Canon-fodder! Sakura makes her shinobi debut on the front lines, forcing her to get creative in her means to survive. It's gritty, raw, and the clever use of seals is great! In most of the other works of this type, Sakura is placed on a team of sorts or has some "support" (kinda), but here she is all alone. She is forced to fight for her life, to keep going despite how she feels because ultimately, Sakura does not want to die. She does meet some people later on though and it was great to see. Y'all know this type of story is my personal guilty pleasure (also one of the best I've read thus far)...

Find Your Place (whatever it takes) - Dovey || ao3 || third war extended AU || incomplete

The war lasts longer than in canon, and has only just ended. While most of the 'Konoha 12' are clan heirs and thus protected from having to go to war prematurely, Sakura is from a civilian family, with naturally advanced chakra control, and thus is thrown immediately onto the frontlines. Now she's on a genin team in peacetime, and she's struggling to figure out how to live when she's not constantly at risk of dying. Team seven bonds in new weird ways, The Uchiha are actually all dead except for Sasuke (including war-hero itachi) who's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Konoha, Naruto isn't the kyuubi container and he finds Sakura kinda scary. Sakura would just like to have a hobby.

Find Your Place (whatever it takes) is the og fic of this category as far as I am aware. The main difference to consider is that it primarily focuses on the aftereffects of the war and the impact that it had on Sakura as a person.

team. - waterpllar || ao3 || gen || third war extended AU || complete

She’s under Neji's command, which apparently means she’s under the Hyuuga’s command. The Hyuuga’s role is on the frontlines, but Neji must be special for a kid from the branch family, because they mostly send him and Sakura out after the big battles are done, to pick off the wounded, and burn bodies. Sakura kind of wishes she had someone to keep her from the big fights, too. Her job is with Neji, taking back kekkei genkai and retrieving important people’s bodies, but she has other assignments, too. She’s given a dull kunai and told to go through the battlefield, dodging blows and jutsus from friend and foe, slashing at whatever isn’t wearing a Konoha headband.(the third shinobi war doesn't end, dragging on for years. konoha is running out of troops, and unimportant children in the academy with even a modicum of talent are snatched up to the warfront. sakura, unfortunately, is one of them. so is neji.)

Such a strong beginning, although, I gotta say that the ending was rather disappointing imo. There was so much potential, but the author admitted to not wanting to continue the story so it was cut short. Hopefully more works of this nature will come to light!

Induction - Anonymous || ao3 || M || gen || third war extended AU || incomplete

in·duc·tion /inˈdəkSH(ə)n/ noun: induction 1. the action or process of inducting someone to a position or organization. enlistment into military service. or; The Third War does not end soon enough. Children pay the price.

Definitely not my favorite take on this trope, but it fits the bill, so it's here! Anyway, tbh I never actually made it far enough reading to get to the actual war part, so I don't have too much to say.

Ground Zero - TheIzzatron || ao3 || gen || T || third war extended AU || incomplete

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If this means forcing weapons into the hands of children, then so be it.

AHHHHH I'm praying for the day we get another chapter of Ground Zero!! I really appreciate how we actually get a training arc where we get a base of the characters and how this system works before they properly get dispatched. The characters and their emotions are so well done that you truly feel how unfair the situation is. They aren't heartless, they are children. Highly recommend.

Control - Dragonist || ao3 || gen || no rating || Sakura sent to war early AU || incomplete

Kumo kidnaps a child of Konoha. Sakura graduates from the academy only a year after starting it. There's a war going on, and she's obedient enough to stay quiet and follow orders. Then the war ends, and it's unclear who is really giving them. (a mystery from a child's perspective)

I haven't read Control yet, but I really need to get around to it!

Ok I just noticed I forgot to add the link to this one, but that has been fixed!!

Edit: bruh, I’m so mad I didn’t get around to reading this sooner because it seems the author deleted it 😭 if any of you have a link/download, please send (I’m begging)

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Please send me more like these!!!!

#anime / manga #manga #anime #naruto #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #haruno sakura #bamf sakura #naruto shippuden #sakura fanfic #shinobi war #clan politics

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highhhfiveee · 7 months ago

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omg hi!

EVERYONE!!! 'tis i, faire, back with some news (and general words lol)!

what's up with me? quick little life update: working full time (we been knew) but got a new job i start soon! to be completely honest, this and the exhaustion i feel from it have been keeping me from writing ]: i am so tired after a day of work, i can't come home to use my brain again. i also have terrible time management skills due to my anxiety and depression BUT! i have started medication! i was already a little nervous to just because i didn't want it to make me feel weird, but i told myself that i have to try things before i write them off, especially if i want to improve my health [,: i took my first lexapro last night and it made me hallucinate lowkey so lets gooooooo!!!! lmao

what's up with safety net? safety net p5 is COMING YALL OMG. i know i've said that a million times, but in (once again) complete honesty, i was STUCK with this part. part 6 is honestly where everything kind of happens, so trying to make this part the set-up for that was driving me insane bc i didn't know how i was gonna do it. when i tell yall that i have so many drafts of different things that i wrote, plus the original outline that would've ended at maybe 10k words if i'd written it just like that. maybe one day i'll expose my different plans, but after weeks and weeks and weeks of ruminating over rewrites and other avenues to take, i finally made a final (very concise) outline that gives us the best of everything and i'm so exciteddddddd (literally brainstormed everything as a method of dissociation at work LMAO). it's a mix of what i intended originally with a new twist that adds a little bit more depth to the characters.....we're about to get into it y'all. everything isn't rainbows and glitter in this story after all

what's up with other fandoms? been watching invincible lately, and was wondering if anyone would be interested in some mark grayson stuff? his whole going off to college and not being able to be normal kind of made me start thinking....(really it was...something else that made me start thinking but i don't want to spoil anything for anyone watching s2 currently lmao WHY IS IT OVER ALREADY?????? just been thinking ab stepping away from jhutch a little (i still haven't watched detention, i'm so sorry) and doing different stuff to get myself back into being consistent on here! i'm also gonna start doing more bulletpoint headcanon stuff cause i can always just list things and blab lol.

sorry if there's any typos in this but that's about all from me at the moment. things are in the works [: see you all soon, hope you're all doing okie

#faire says #will this next half of safety net be worth the wait?#abso fucking lutely #invincible fic #fnaf fic #fnaf #fnaf movie #faire's (pornstar) mike schmidt <3

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pialikesskz · 1 year ago

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boarding: the floor plans

so um... hi folks! if you're here, you've probably been reading my skz fanfic boarding over on ao3. some of y'all have been asking to see my floor plans that i've made for the story. this is me, obliging. hope you enjoy :)

introduction and vibes

i'm planning to upload some edits to the earlier chapters within the next month or so to give a bit more of an image of what i imagine the space to look like, now that i actually have it. in the beginning, i was really just putting scotch tape over the world-building in order to get to the character interactions. for now, here's the edited version of the initial description of the school:

"In the distance, the sparse forest through which they’re driving melts smoothly into a series of rolling hills. With how early it is, the hilltops still catch a hint of morning reds and pinks from the lazy sunrise. The car rounds one last bend in the road, and Felix’ breath catches in his throat. The ground slopes gently upwards for a few hundred yards, and at the peak of that hill stands an ancient estate, cloaked in brickwork and ivy, rising up out of the landscape with impossible grace. It is majestic, and dignified, and makes his heart sink in his chest with a pain like simmering water." (Intro Pt. I)

i can't actually draw, in fact i can barely sketch, so u will just have to use ur imagination on that. but keep it in mind for overall vibes.

the school grounds

this is the worst of these sketches, and i apologise, but this is generally how i imagine the layout of the school. that big thing in the front is the mains, then the courtyard, and the three houses: yang, park, lee. the line around it is a sort of brick-wall fence, old-looking and worn. it's all surrounded by forest that gets thicker the further u venture away from the school, but light enough to allow for hyunjin to catch glimpses of the sun reflecting off the lake on a good day. here is part of the updated description:

"Changbin directs them outside by way of the back door, which leads out to a large manicured courtyard bisected by cobbled walkways; it’s structured a little like a park, complete with benches clustered around trees and small sectioned-off parts clearly set up for games. It’s about a five-minute walk through the courtyard to the dorm buildings, though that’s with the added weight of the suitcase. Felix tries his hardest to memorise where he needs to go — the school grounds certainly seem large enough to get lost in at some point." (Intro Pt. I)

the distance between the houses and the football field is way larger than it appears here; unfortunately, i only had so much paper to work with, and i wasn't gonna start again at this point. it's definitely a five to ten minute walk from the field gate - u can see it in the gap in the fence - to the football field. the path to it slopes vaguely downward. the building next to the football field is the auditorium where choir practice happens, and sometimes assemblies. (we'll get to that in the story eventually, i promise.) also there's changing rooms for when there's football matches.

the mains

this is how i imagine the layout of the main building. the cellar is on a separate page because i make bad choices in life. "T.H." stands for teacher housing. anything with diagonal lines across it is storage of some sort. the grey-shaded thing on the second floor is a bit of roof - for architectural interest, u feel? i play a lot of sims.

the dorm houses

this is how i imagine the layout of the three houses - or, at least, park house. (btw has anyone figured out why i named the houses the way i did? it made me feel really smart when i came up with it.) more on the single dorms later. the stuff in dotted lines is, like, stuff that exists on one floor but not on others - like, the ground floor has those wing things to the sides, but there's no equivalent above or below, it's just roof. hope that makes sense.

the dorm rooms

and finally, this is the layout of the dorm in my head. yes, it's pretty small, but consider this: stuck-up private schools don't care about the rights of children. for this one, i actually tried to work with some realistic measurements, but like, take it with a grain of salt, y'all, i'm an english literature major. as to who's in which room, peek at the top of the page. updated description:

"(The door) opens into a small common room populated by an assortment of worn-looking furniture: a closed wooden storage cupboard in the corner, a mostly-empty bookshelf leaning against the wall, two sofas with a wild assortment of pillows on them placed haphazardly around a chipped coffee table." (Intro Pt. I)

fin

so that's that! i've put a lot of thought into this space, and i think at this point i've got it down pretty well. of course, these are all just what i have in mind myself - if it doesn't fit with your vision of the story, that's cool! keep picturing that! we love anarchy here.

feel free to let me know your thoughts on the floor plans, the story, anything at all! i am really happy to talk to y'all, and answering tumblr asks make me way less anxious than replying to ao3 comments lol. have a lovely day, and i'll see you for the next chapter!

-pia

ps: i took the leap out of my comfort zone and put this on my personal skz tumblr, instead of one specifically created for the purpose of sharing ao3 things. that's big for me. be nice.

pps: if you know me in real life, and you want to tell me that my writing is cringy: don't! it will make me sad. so mind your business.

ppps: if anyone steals/reposts this, i will hunt them down and make them eat a ten-pack of tissue paper. do not test me.

#my writing #fic writing #do not reblog #do not repost #skz fanfic #boarding ao3

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theghostbunnie · 2 years ago

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I’m curious but ever since you dropped your Harrison hcs I’ve been thinking about what he would be like when he gets older. Are there any hcs/info you have for him??

I'M SO HAPPY Y'ALL ARE INTERESTED IN MY HCS IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME!!!!! 💖💕💫🩷

I have like two paths I could see my version of older Harrison going down. Let's say roughly age 17 or so, he either swears off using absolutely any of his natural magical ability and keeps his illusion/slide of hand tricks utterly private for the most part. The first being a desperate attempt to regain his parents trust, the second with the card tricks being more of getting shamed out of being open with his peers with his hobbies. I wouldn't wanna see him kept on this path and I often pair it with some major character development story. (In my head atleast, I don't think I'd ever be able to use a fanfiction writing website or have the energy to regularly update one or anything like that. I would definitely maybe write short fics on Tumblr one day.. maybe)

The other option being he actually never stopped working on his talents like that and has steadily gotten so much better. (At the start of the show he accidentally sets David on fire, in much later episodes he's able to make rings of flame, already MAJORR improvement!!) He works on his other abilities, making things levitate ect.

So when they start having these hiccups, often small physical items or spells bursting out of him during strong feelings (leading to panic and embarrassment only making it worse.) Harrison feels like it's a total setback. That his work so far didn't mean anything, he has no idea where his powers come from and as they change he apparently has no idea how to control them after all. Alot of old doubts, and new ones emerge. "Maybe it would've been better to have never had them in the first place."

I like to think after awhile he regains this hold over it, and it was just a sign of like. His magic going through puberty/hj and it turns out stronger in the end.

Other older Harrison HCs include he's definitely a swiftie and jumps up on his bed lipsyncing doing a fucking Matilda as shit floats everywhere.

His formal vest and top hat get switched out for a casual vest and beanie hat (constant hat hair) wouldn't it be so funny if he had a top hat shaped pin on it/hj

His like signature little thing I love putting on his clothes and drawing him with is the ace of spades. Small charms n shit I love it.

His frienemy thing with Nerris as she matures turns more into friend leaning. (Bc like, their dynamic is not 50/50 she is nearly always the one coming at or for HIM 😭 and it's coming from a very childish reasoning- which is okay. Bc she's a child.) So as she gets older and grows out of her issues that caused them to not get along they become closer.

Mostly due to them both being much better friends with Preston and spending time with each other via him.

But since they're older and Preston fills alot of his time with the multiple hobbies he has and Nerris has other friends to hangout with, Harrison is still left on his own sometimes. He goes through these bits of bad mental health and "everyone hates me" thoughts but doesn't really let anyone know about it.

I have this OC Quincy, technically not a camp camp oc I'm actually embarrassed sometimes to add him into things bc he doesn't fit the vibe of cc what so ever but the angst he can make is so good 2 me

He's this demon with magical know-how but no power of hisown. I like to think of Harrison (who notoriously throughout the show wants company.) Kinda ignores all the red flags and "I've always said don't judge a book by it's cover"s his way into accidentally getting manipulated by him. But also getting incredibly helpful magic lessons out of it too before it comes to a head.

#harrison camp camp #camp camp harrison #character headcanons #camp camp headcanons #headcannons #cc harrison #harrison cc #camp camp #camp campbell #camp camp fandom #fictional characters #campcamp #angst

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 2 years ago

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I am a new reader of your blog, and that is something I want to know (but it's totally okay if you want to ignore this ask!) why you stopped liking [with you]? Is there something in particular that bothered you about this fic?

That... is a question with a loaded answer.

The quick answer is:

I put way too much pressure on myself with [with you] that caused terrible burnout and I couldn't do any creative writing for a long time after; a small portion of my readers were pretty hostile about slow updates; there were criticisms about the story that I had a hard time with; and there are a lot of story beats and writing decisions I made with it that I'm very critical of. All of those things combined, I now have a lot of negative feelings associated with [with you].

The not-so-quick answer involves a lot of self-criticism about my prose, poor choices, the criticisms by my readers, and some behind the scenes stuff. I'll put all that under a "keep reading" for anyone interested in more detail.

When I started [with you], it wasn't meant to be a 50k+ story, it was just going to be a simpler story told in a couple parts... that I then kept expanding. I'm pretty sure every note I have on the original version posted on here starts with, "hey y'all, this story is this many parts now whoops haha"

I had very little planned out, I was just discovery writing my way through everything. I wrote a chapter, read through it a couple times, said, "yeah that's good enough," then posted. Y'know, like what a lot of people who write fics do. "no beta, we die like Ben falling down the bell tower" and all that.

I had ideas of where I wanted to go, but I didn't start an outline until I was well into the story. It was bloated. I felt like I needed to add every single idea I had, and needed to expand on every character, even if it didn't do anything to advance or enhance the story... and that became overwhelming for me to keep track of since I wanted it to all tie together in the end and please my readers.

When I read through it now, there is so much that can be cut that no one would miss. It would flow better and be easier to read.

My prose [the actual writing style] is all over the place and reads like a first draft, especially in earlier chapters. Spelling errors, run-on sentences, whole paragraphs that I should've cut. While I feel better about my dialogue, there are some conversations that read as awkward.

Honestly, the best part of the entire fic is Clementine and Louis' story, which... yeah. I'm pretty happy with the way I portrayed their dynamic, dialogue, and romance. I just wish I hadn't bogged it all down with everything else, like... that's all it needed to be, it just needed to be about clouis.

Oh, and I still like the dream sequence. That's probably one of the better chapters, if not the best chapter.

Now, when I say I made bad choices with this story, one of those choices I'm referring to is my "big rewrite." This was incredibly stupid. Past CJ thought it was a good idea but she's a dumb ass. You can't listen to anything she says.

Basically, I got the brilliant idea that I would take [with you] down and rewrite the whole thing before I wrote the final chapters. I wasn't satisfied with how it was written. I felt I could do so much better. I was going to trim unnecessary fat, expand on important details, make some heavy changes, improve everything, and then repost it with the ending.... so I deleted it off AO3 and got to work.

Terrible idea. Don't ask me why. What I should've done was discontinued that version, made a note that it was old, and then published the new version separately. But I didn't. And a lot of people were pissed at me. Shocking.

I should've just finished it. I should've finished it, posted it, and then went from there. But I didn't. Ever since then I've gotten a lot of readers who would go on anon and send me messages about [with you] that are passive aggressive or guilt trippy. That soured my feelings about the story and myself as a writer tremendously.

Then there's Violet.

I wrote the first few chapters before Ep4 of TFS was released, meaning I wrote Violet before we found out that she's blinded in the explosion in her kidnapped route. I took the "Violet despises you" route, and a big plot point of the story is Violet dealing with all these conflicting feelings about Clementine, hating her but also not, distancing herself from the group, the strain it put on her and Louis' friendship, etc.

I don't like how I portrayed Violet for a number of reasons. I know what I was trying to do, and I knew I couldn't [or wouldn't] scrap everything I already wrote about her and rewrite in a blind Violet on friendly terms with Clementine... because sure, I wanted to do this grand rewrite that sounded easy enough on paper, but in practice that was so much work that intimidated me.

Because behind the scenes fun- for the rewrite, I wanted to do that. That was a major change that would've cut so much from the story I wasn't happy with, and would've been a more positive portrayal of the character. But then I saw just how much would be cut and how much I'd have to write and it scared me off from the idea... so I tried to work with what I had and I still hate it.

Violet's very antagonistic in the story. She attacked Clementine after the boat explosion. Everyone thinks she'll attack her again. Mitch calls her a traitorous bitch and doesn't trust her to not stab Clementine in a conversation. There's even a point where it's mentioned that in the past she slapped Louis during a conversation. She just has a pissy attitude throughout the story but then berates herself for it and I just... I was going for a slow burn recovery that explores her trauma and ends with her reconciling with Clementine... but it doesn't come off that way? Some parts I think I executed better than others but most of it I look back at and say, "...No, past CJ, that doesn't read like you think it does...."

But that wasn't my only criticism I got about the way I wrote Violet, and this one is... a little complicated? And something most probably wouldn't take issue with or even notice unless you're a major Violet stan... but I pretty much gave Mitch [a character I loved at the time] a lot of Violet's canon character points and explored them more positively, then turned around and made Violet more antagonistic, which......yeeeeeah.

The only defense I have for this is it wasn't intentional. It really wasn't, but I understand and think it's a valid complaint. Like... I used to get these anons who would tell me this and I'd quietly delete them because, "...nope, not touching that. If I don't acknowledge it, it doesn't exist."

Lemme explain: In my fics, Mitch is gay. He had feelings for his best friend and roommate, Justin, before he died to walkers, and Mitch hasn't trusted "gross feelings" ever since... until James shows up and Mitch has to face the fact that he has romantic feelings for him while not being completely over Justin...

...y'know, totally different from Violet who is gay, had feelings for Minerva before she "died," and hasn't trusted mushy feelings ever since... until Clementine shows up and Violet has to face the fact that she has romantic feelings for her while not being completely over Minerva....

It's surface level stuff since they are written differently, and it's not like you're not allowed to have more than one character with character beats like that, but it's enough of a similarity that I get why it would rub Violet lovers the wrong way. Especially since nothing about that is canon with Mitch's character, y'know? It's the character I gave him.

I don't think it was coming from the Violet crowd [the aggressively obnoxious fans no one likes], I think it came from people who were genuinely bummed or put off by my more antagonistic portrayal of her, only to see similar traits portrayed positively with Mitch.

And that bothers me. I do like the way I wrote Mitch, but I hate the way I wrote Violet. It's made me step back and analyze why I wrote them the way I did, y'know?

But the BIGGEST criticism from readers I've gotten?

[with you] is unfinished.... valid, but there isn't anything I can add that. Sorry y'all, it's discontinued, I'm never going to finish it.

The best I can give you is what I planned: a big wedding scene where Clementine and Louis exchanged vows and kissed. Violet showed up and made amends with Clementine. Clementine talked Mitch into dancing with her even though he hates dancing. Aasim tried to ask Ruby to dance, panicked, and asked Mitch instead who was like "...Fuck no, RUBY COME DANCE WITH AASIM!" Louis and Clementine left early to head back to their room and it probably would've ended with some sappy line about being together to the end.

So... there ya go? It's not a final chapter but that's the gist of what would've happened.

But moving on, I was also going through a lot of things in my personal life that I won't get into. I was working on other writing projects that I had more interest in, so [with you] was put on the backburner. Then, over time I grew more sour about it the more pressure and guilt I put on myself, added with the pressure and guilt put on by my readers.

I do want to clarify that it's not like ALL of my readers were like this. Most of them were sweet, supportive followers who only had nice things to say. But you know how it is... you could get ten comments/asks, nine of them positive and one negative, and it's the negative one that's going to stick to you.

So, to my lovely readers, I am sorry that I let you down by not finishing it. To the rude readers, I'm less sorry because y'all were dicks.

Y'know... I can look at all of my other works and either be like "Yeah, I'm really proud of that story," or "Eh, it was one of my earlier works, so I can't be too hard on it."

But [with you] puts me in a crisis of "oh god I'm a fraud, I was never a good writer, what am I doing??? why?? why are you like this??"

and I have to snap myself out of it. That's why I'm so like this about it now.

There are other little things I could go into, but this answer is long enough. I figure if anyone has any further questions or criticisms, they'll send 'em in and I can answer them that way.

I've moved on from all my twdg writing, I'm writing dragon age stuff now, and it's finally working for me so it's not like [with you] has me all hung up still. Plus, I think it's good to go back and learn from mistakes made in old works, y'know?

#asks #[with you]#twdg clementine #twdg louis #twdg violet #twdg mitch #twdg ruby #twdg aasim #twdg james #i have a lot of feelings about my old writings and trying to not repeat mistakes sksksks #because hhhnnnggggg... i made mistakes #but it's fine #it's fine i am different now and current cj has improved.... she said through gritted teeth #no but really i'm doing so much more writing these days and it's actually *fun* again... writing hasn't been fun for a long time #and writing da fic is like... a totally different experience? because it's a very different world/fandom than twdg... obviously sksks #plus i'm just a lurker in the shadows of the fandom and i haven't posted any writing yet so there are zero eyes on me #there was a point where i felt like stagnant with twdg? like i wanted to branch out and write different kinds of fics but was too worried #about my readers and followers judging me for it or that no one would want to read it because it wasn't tfs stuff #like.... ugh do i dare share this? ....it's in the tags and no one reads those so i'm sure this is a safe place for confession... sksks #i entertained the idea of writing a long fic about david and lilly meeting and joining the delta together #that would've dealt with much heavier mature themes than any of my tfs stuff did #...don't look at me like that okay I KNOW sksksk livid was a huge meme on this blog and behind the scenes i was like #'...wait what if though??' and never did it because i *know* how it would've been received and frankly i didn't wanna deal with that #plus i had so much other shit to write and [with you] constantly on the back burner screaming at me sooooo.... yeah #but anyway... i'll stop venting in the tags and thank anon for the ask and for reading my stuff #despite my hang ups with it i do truly appreciate you for reading my work and hope my answer makes sense

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voidscarredadjudicator · 2 months ago

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ANYWAYS hey guys. Obligatory 'not dead yet' post here. Yet another long one, mostly rambling.

I wish I had a proper update after all this time that wasn't just me yelling at the sky or something but simply put I probably have to move for a second time this year but the issue is that I don't know that for sure or even when that would be if I do have to so it's one of those things where I kinda just can't get too comfortable ever at all so that's pretty cool I guess. There has been a non-zero amount of progress made on Act 2 at the very, very least as I am occasionally struck with motivation, but god. It feels like I've been hit with a curse or some shit.

Also, while I haven't been playing the game as of late, I've been keeping my ear to the ground and know that there's that pretty big splatfest right around the corner, so it's pretty cool to see that I've been so slow to get the next act out that the game is already pulling the big anniversary celebration with the theme that's probably gonna have some influence on where they go next with the series. That was sarcasm by the way I wish I could keep up any semblance of a pace that isn't on par with waiting for the heat death of the universe

But hey, at the very least, it gives me more official stuff to work with rather than just making shit up later down the line. To give you an idea of the HE Acts (which is the least I can do at this point), Following Big Run being the focus of Act 2, Act 3 will be the Alterna arc, Act 4 will be a more original arc that's been foreshadowed in Act 1 and also the Harmony story, and Act 5 will be a continuation of that with a final fest kind of splatfest as the backdrop. In the timeline where I could actually pump all this out in a reasonable timeframe and thusly have gotten Act 5 out before now, I would've had to have come up with some kind of climactic theme on my own and I'm kinda punching myself for not thinking of Past, Present, and Future myself because holy shit that is so obvious and works REALLY well with Kaleb's story.

So uh. Yeah. Honestly at this point I'm not sure how many folks still care because of how long this is taking me and frankly I wouldn't blame anyone for losing interest at this point, but I still wanna get this put out there. Even if it takes me far beyond the game's lifespan. Hopefully it won't and hopefully I can actually, for real this time, enter some kind of groove and knock this shit out of the park in a few month's time, but I don't wanna promise anything I can't know for sure. I'm sorry, y'all. Hope you've been doing good.

what do you MEAN it's been two months already what the FUCK

#The Adjudicator has spoken.#NOT DEAD!!!!! I PROMISE!!!! LIFE'S A BITCH THOUGH!!!!!!!!!!

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just-call-me-angel · 3 years ago

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Clever Girl

Chapter 1 - Pumpkin Pie

|| This fic contains mature content! If you are below the age of 18 this is not for you! Further warnings will be added as needed! ||

Authors note: I have not written seriously in ages but I've been going absolutely insane thinking about Paul Dano and his recent role as the Riddler and one of my partners convinced me to get back into writing. Hope y'all enjoy because this is literally just me shamelessly fantasizing about the Riddler being obsessed with me. I'm going to try to update this regularly because I have little else to do in my free time but I make no promises! Please leave your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to know how I can improve my fic! My fic is also posted to ao3 if you would like to show your support there as well! -♡Angel♡

Ao3

Chapters: ||1||2||3||4||

Gotham was a rotten place. It always had been and it would likely always remain like that. It was just the way it was and the sooner everyone accepted that fact, the sooner everyone could go on with their shitty lives. You’ve lived in Gotham your whole life, you’d seen people die in the streets, hell you had very nearly been the one dying a few times and you’d been robbed at gunpoint more times than you could even count and at this point it was more concerning when something bad didn’t happen. It was a routine that you and nearly everyone in Gotham was used to and as much as you complained about it, it was still your home. And really where else could you go? When you were young you imagined a life far away from Gotham and all the shit and piss and blood that flooded the streets, but as you grew older you realized it was nothing more than a fantasy. Gotham had a hold on you for better or for worse.

So you stuck to what you knew. You continued the cycle your family had begun long before you were even an idea in their minds, trapping yourself in Gotham until the day you died. You graduated high school in Gotham and eventually went to college in Gotham. You had to drop out of course, the school wasn’t cheap and you couldn’t keep up with the loans. You reminded yourself that you had made a pretty good effort, no one else in your family had gotten as far as you had. So you moved on, got a job at some shitty dinner and managed to get an apartment nearby. It was a shitty side of town but really there wasn’t a side of Gotham that wasn’t shitty so you took what you could get even if you had to worry about an occasional break in here and there. Life continued and Gotham continued to rot and it didn’t really matter that you were likely to rot away with it.

And really Rosie’s Diner wasn’t all that bad, sure your boss rarely paid you what you were owed, the food tasted like cardboard, and people gave shit tips but you always met interesting people. Take for instance your coworker, Darcy. A 52 year old red haired woman who had lived in Gotham all her life, she had brought three children into this world and had already buried two of them. She didn’t talk about what happened much but from what you could gather they hadn’t died peacefully. She was fierce and loud and refused to take shit from anyone. You had watched her make grown men nearly piss themselves in fear more than a few times. And despite all the shit that Gotham had tossed her way she had a warmth about her that you hadn’t seen since you were a kid. She treated you and many of your other coworkers like you were her flesh and blood, and you supposed that in some fucked up way you were her flesh and blood, linked by the rot that Gotham had set in all of you. Then there was Ricky, a 25 year old social worker who came in every morning at 5 am for a cup of coffee and told you fanciful stories with a level of excitement you had only seen coming from a young child. You had once asked him why he became a social worker and as he looked up you suddenly realized how much older he looked. You could see the worry lines already forming across his forehead and the dark circles beneath his tired green eyes. Yet as he told you that he wasn’t ready to give up on the people of Gotham, he still managed to smile like a young man who still had hope for the world. And somehow it gave you a little hope as well. You made sure to give him an extra to go cup of coffee every time you saw him after that and he would laugh and tease you for worrying about him even though he would never deny the extra boost in energy.

But in the nearly 3 years you had spent working at Rosie’s you had never come across someone more interesting than one particular customer. You had met him first a few weeks back, he came in an hour before you were done with your shift. You had noticed almost immediately how odd he was as he sat at the counter hunched over a crossword puzzle and sipped occasionally at his coffee. His hair was sandy brown and made him look a bit like an awkward teenage boy and he was tall, though you noticed he often tried to make himself appear smaller. He wore large clear framed glasses that often slid down the bridge of his nose whenever he bent over his little puzzle book to focus. You wondered if his glasses even really helped him sometimes with how he seemed to squint and move closer to read things. He was odd but he was also rather intriguing and you for some unknown reason were determined to befriend him.

At first he only came in once or twice but eventually he became something of a regular and you became used to the chime of the little bell at the front ringing to indicate his arrival around 6:30am. For a while he would avoid your attempts at small talk. Even when you asked him if he needed a refill for his coffee he refused to meet your gaze as he would nod quickly and push his cup timidly towards you. Once you had accidentally brushed your hand against his while moving to pour fresh coffee into his mug and you watched in surprise as he stood up almost instantly, shoved a little pile of cash onto the counter and rushed out of the diner before you could say a word. He didn’t come in for a few days after that and when he finally returned he sat hunched over another crossword puzzle in his usual place at the counter. Despite not knowing him and having thus far failed at befriending him you had worried about him in his absence. Mostly you had spent your shifts casting anxious glances at the door wondering when or if he would return. You worried endlessly that you had done something to offend him and wanted desperately to apologize. It felt odd to try to apologize out loud, you doubted you could even get the words out without sounding like a complete idiot so instead you opted for a subtler gesture. You passed him his cup of coffee fresh from the pot and carefully placed a slice of pumpkin pie in front of him along with it. For a moment he didn’t even seem to notice you standing there but as he moved to grab his coffee his eyes landed on the pie you had offered to him in silent apology. Slowly he looked up at you clearly confused as his brows furrowed behind his glasses.

“Miss…I uh… I didn’t order the pie ” he spoke quietly, moving to push the pie back towards you only for you to shake your head and place it right back in front of him.

“No no, It's um… it's in the house.” you paused, biting the inside of your cheek and fidgeting with the hem of your apron for a moment, “I wanted to apologize for making you uncomfortable the other day.” He stares at you for what feels like hours and you can already feel heat rising to your cheeks with him studying you like this. Finally he looks down at the pie and starts to pick up the fork, taking a small piece into his mouth with a little hum of approval.

Just as you were about to turn around and hide in the kitchen you heard him mumble something you couldn’t quite understand making you tilt your head at him with a quiet “hmm?”

“I asked if you like Riddles” he repeated carefully before taking another bite of the pie you had offered him. You stared at him for a moment rather perplexed by the odd question. Still you gave him an honest answer.

“I’m not very good at them to be honest but I like the way they make you think.” you offer politely, pleased that your apology pie had gotten him to actually speak to you, even if the conversation was a little strange.

He seemed to approve of your answer, a little smile spreading over his lips when he looked up at you again. “I'm sure that’s not true, you seem like a smart girl” You could feel his eyes wandering over you and normally it would have made you feel a little sick but the little bit of praise he had offered had you far too giddy to really care.

“Would you like to try to solve a riddle?” he asks, a little spark of childlike mischief in his green eyes. You nodded before you even fully registered the question, too thrilled at the chance to actually speak to this intriguing man. He seemed equally as excited and barely flinched when you moved closer to him as even he moved to lean in ever so slightly as if preparing to tell you a secret.

“What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks?” His words are said carefully and he sounds more confident than he ever has in the brief times you had heard his voice. Your brows furrowed immediately in frustration and he seemed amused by your reaction laughing softly, “Don’t take it too literally, that's how you get lost in a riddle.” he offered in encouragement.

He let you think on the riddle for a while, quietly eating his pie and sipping his coffee. Once or twice he would glance down at his puzzle book and carefully fill in an answer but he seemed intent on watching you struggle with the riddle. You wanted desperately to answer correctly but mostly you wanted him to smile at you again. Maybe he’d praise you again for your cleverness if you guessed correctly.

What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? You repeat the question over and over in your mind until you're sure even he can hear it echo against your skull. You lean over the counter with a heavy sigh as your eyes wander around the diner. You can see him watching you out of the corner of your eye and it makes you fidget a bit, biting at the inside of your cheek again, repeating the riddle like a mantra in your thoughts, What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? What breaks but never falls, and what falls but never breaks? Your gaze falls upon the sky breaking out from black to shades of orange and you can’t help but smile at the sight. Dawn was the only time Gotham’s skies weren’t completely gray and it was part of the reason you enjoyed the graveyard shift so much. Your brain froze for a moment as you stared out the windows and suddenly it was like a wildfire lit up in your brain as the dots connected and you pushed off of the counter quickly turning to face the man again.

“Dusk and dawn” you stated proudly, hands on your hips and a big grin on your face. He looked up from his puzzle book with a blank expression that slowly spread into a smile as he began quietly clapping his hands as if to applaud you.

“See I knew you were a clever girl.” You could feel your cheeks burning once more at his praise and you couldn’t help the nervous laughter that bubbled from your throat as he stared at you with open interest. You stared at him for what seemed like ages, blissfully unaware of your surroundings until he shifted and began to gather his things, carefully pulling out money to pay for his coffee and suddenly you realize it's nearly the end of your shift and you have to stop yourself from pouting like a child. He sets the money on the counter turning to leave and you fight the urge to stop him and ask for another riddle if only to prolong the interaction. As if hearing your silent prayer, he stopped near the door and you watched as he seemed to have an internal struggle of his own before finally he called back to you.

“What belongs to me yet everyone else uses more than me?” he asks with a shy smile and you tilt your head curiously until you realize it’s another riddle and you perk up instantly. “If you can solve it by tomorrow I’ll give you my name.” he promises and you can’t stop the smile from spreading over your face as you nod excitedly and he smiles back, a little hum of approval as he turns to open the door.

“I’ll see you later Clever girl” He promises with a little wave as he steps out the door and you wave back, beaming as you bounce a little on your heels. You stand there for a while, just staring at the door with a little smile still tugging at your lips. You’re sure you look rather strange standing there with a dumb smile on your face but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when you have a riddle to solve and the promise of this intriguing man's name.

You go home cheeks still burning from the excitement of your morning. You hadn’t felt this giddy in years and for the first time in a long time you were actually excited to go to work the next day if only to see your strange new friend with his love for pumpkin pie and his little riddles. You wanted desperately to get to know him, to hear him call you a clever girl just once more. You were determined to solve his riddles and in turn solve the mystery of the man himself.

You spent the day thinking about the riddle, repeating it to yourself even as you showered and got ready for bed. The answer didn’t come to you until you were finally beginning to drift off to sleep and a little smile crept onto your face as you whispered the answer softly to yourself.

“Your name”

You fell asleep imagining how pleased he would be to hear you had solved his riddle, his quiet voice echoing through your mind, as you drifted to sleep dreaming of pumpkin pie and crossword puzzles stained with coffee rings.

---------------------------

Edward's POV

Edward was beyond distracted for the rest of the day, endless strings of information barely even registering in his mind as he worked mindlessly, thoughts stuck on the pretty waitress at the local diner. His head felt fuzzy just thinking about how soft her skin had been against his and how thrilled she had seemed to talk to him. He had never in his life interacted with a woman for as long as he did you and it was absolutely terrifying. A part of him wanted to forget about the whole thing and completely avoid the diner for the rest of his life so as to never risk embarrassing himself in front of her. But another part of him, a more desperate and hopeless part of him yearned to see her again. He wanted to make her smile again. He wanted to see her brows furrow and lips form into a pout as she thought hard about a riddle. He wanted to make her cheeks grow red with embarrassment again like they had when he praised her cleverness. He hadn’t even meant to say it out loud but when her face lit up bright red and she laughed nervously he was glad for his inability to keep his mouth shut.

He wondered if she had solved the riddle yet. He was sure she would have by now, she was clever, he hadn’t lied about that and he never was one to give praise unless it was well deserved. Despite his avoidance when it came to talking to her, he had spent much of his time in that little diner watching her from afar when he thought she wasn’t looking. She was annoyingly distracting and at first Edward had hated her for it. After a while the annoyance turned to curiosity as he watched her interact with her coworkers and customers. She was quiet and sweet but unafraid to give people a piece of her mind. He had seen her talk excitedly with a coworker and then slap a man across the face for trying to grope her through her uniform all in the same breath. (He very nearly had to rush to the bathroom to jerk himself off after watching her scold a man twice her size, pathetically he imagined that it was him she was calling names and insulting). She was thrilling and new and Edward wanted to ruin her and be ruined by her, he wasn’t even sure which he wanted more at this point. It didn’t matter, he just wanted to have her, the rest of Gotham could burn for all he cared (and it would if he had anything to say about it).

Work felt like it had gone on for an eternity before he was finally able to go back to his apartment and Edward knew he would be kicking himself the next day for not getting more work done. Realistically he could have brought some work home with him to finish but it was likely he still wouldn’t be able to focus. She had only said a few words to him and yet she was quickly becoming all he could think about.

Edward had always been what many would call obsessive, he would get stuck on something and it wouldn’t stop bothering him until he figured it out, it’s why he loved puzzles so much. They were something he could spend hours figuring out and it absolutely thrilled him. So he reasoned that all he needed to do was solve the mystery of his clever girl and then he could move on with his life and all his plans for Gotham. It was an easy task and he would eventually grow bored with her as he usually did on the rare occasions when he did express interest in a person. He would probably learn something that would make him hate her and then he could wipe her from his life without a second glance. That's how life was, he had learned long ago not to hold out hope for people to actually understand him or god forbid care about him. But he could have fun with you while it lasted at least. The hurt never lasted long when people eventually showed their true colors and in the end he could always use that pain to drive his desire to see Gotham washed clean of all its sin.

How things ended with her in the future really didn’t matter right now though, not when he could still feel the ache of his cock against his pants. Was he really so desperate for attention that he was already hard at the mere thought of some pretty waitress he didn’t even know the name of. He should have paid attention to her name tag or listened when her coworkers talked to her, maybe then he would know what her name sounded like falling from his lips as he tugged his pants down his thighs and fell backwards into his shitty mattress. He closed his eyes imagining her pretty pink lips puffed out in a pout, a breathless whine already escaping him as his hand brushed over his leaking cock. He wondered what she would sound like moaning his name and how she would look creaming on his cock. His thoughts wandered and his hips moved with reckless abandon when he imagined her knelt before him, taking his cock down her throat like she needed it to survive. Fuck, he needed to slow down, savor this before he dove over the ledge.

Edward gave the base of dick a firm squeeze, biting his lower lip in frustration as he forced himself to calm down. Slowly he worked himself back up, mind already conjuring up images of her pretty face wet with tears as she choked on his cock. She’d love it, he thought, thrusting up into his hand with a hiss. She’d milk him for all he had to offer and she’d love every fucking second of it, he decided with a choked gasp. He imagined her writhing above him, tight cunt squeezing his cock as she let him grope her. He wondered what her tits looked like, he didn’t care how big or how small they really were, he just wanted to feel them in his hands, taste them on his tongue and see them decorated with little purple bruises. “I wanna make you feel good.”, he imagined her saying and it had him fisting his sheets with his free hand. He wondered if she would take control, he liked to think she would, he liked to picture her riding his cock and making him promise not to cum until she gave him permission. It would be hard, he’d whine and beg her while she rode him like her life depended on it and he wouldn’t even try to stop her until finally, blessedly she would lean over and whisper into his ear asking him, begging him, commanding him to cum for her. He bucked wildly into his hand before he could even stop himself. With a cry he arched off of the mattress as he came into his own hand as if you really had been there finally allowing him the release he so desperately craved.

Edward laid there on his bed, legs trembling and breaths coming out shaky and raspy and didn’t move to clean himself off until he felt too sticky and gross to lay still. He imagined if she was really there she would guide him to the shower with a gentle hand and sweet coos of praise. He got up quickly, nearly tripping with his first step, forgetting his pants and boxers were still hooked around his ankles. With a grumble he kicked them off, not caring where they landed at this point, it wasn’t like it mattered, no one ever came to his apartment so he had no reason to worry about a little mess. Slowly he shuffled to the bathroom, wincing when he turned on the light to look briefly in the mirror. His cheeks were red, and his hair was wet with sweat and sticking to his forehead. His glasses were resting at an odd angle, the lenses a little fogged up and his eyes looked a bit sad behind them.

Pathetic. Fucking pathetic, he thought as he rifled through his laundry basket and tossed a shirt over the mirror with a heavy sigh before he stepped into the shower. The water was freezing and he only stayed in long enough to let the water wash away the cum sticking to his stomach and thighs. He exited the shower quickly, barely bothering to towel off before he tossed on a pair of boxers and a shirt he assumed was clean enough and all but threw himself back into bed, curling up under his thin sheets and shivering when they failed to provide enough warmth. He imagined for a moment that she was there sleeping next to him, keeping him warm in his shitty apartment and it soothed the chill in his bones enough that eventually he fell asleep, dreaming for the first time of something other than the memories that usually plagued him. Instead he dreamt of his clever girl and the thrilling new mystery that she provided him with.

#edward nashton #the riddler #dano riddler #batman 2022 #riddler x reader #edward nashton x reader #incel riddler #nsft #fic writing #fanfic #i have no idea what im doing please be nice to me #reader is afab #riddler x you

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zasaka-studio · 3 years ago

Text

Request/prompt page:

Overhauled: 1

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This is where you'll find the most of my works, also please don't be afraid to ask me something!

REQUESTS: OPEN

Note: As this is one of my many different accounts, as i do not know how to switch it I'll just be talking through @totalistreborn so there's no confusion! ↴

Defaults: AFAB, yandere (ofc), male yandere, other stuff I'll make up if you didn't deliberately ask, so be specific!

Linked accounts!~: @Unholy-Crusaiders @totalistreborn

Please give me some resemblance of a plot, though it's no big deal if you don't!

Overhaul post: 💌✨💌

Also i forgot to say that all NSFW posts will be highlighted in Red

Ao3~ 💌✨

Wattpad: TongaTime (couldn't link it)

WIP: Here]~

Master list: Here]~

Hope you find these interesting!~

Massive Announcement!!! (Do not skip)

Also side note, i DO NOT condone, encourage or support the behaviors that come with the term “Yandere”.

And any of this is NEVER okay. As well as BE okay. I just wanted to say that the only place that this should exist is in FICTION only. I only like to write about it. Thanks for listening!

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Rules;

You can ask me anything! A drabble an idea, maybe a character idea- it's all good!

But also, you can be as wild as you want! Really i don't mind. Except for a few that I'm listening below ➘➘➘

Necrophilia

Nekos

Scat or piss kinks (personal no)

Any sort of harassment

Saying that yandere is a dream come true or something that it is not (go to Massive Announcement!!! For my opinion)

You can pick from my prompt list - Here-✨

────────────────────

Navigation system!!!

IK this is already long as shit but I want to make it easy for people to find in filter out the stories you like to read. So here are the translations!

☕ = My own story/ idea/ post i made myself

✨ = Requested by you guys~

💌📨〜 = Author stuff / Anon asks

❌ = No longer writing for (character) / can be changed if I feel like it

🔞 = NSFW, the violence, harassment, blood/gore type of tag. Or for things that may trigger people, (prob most of my posts)

🔥<3 = Sexual Content

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Prompts:

!Warnings!: NSFW mentions, abuse, stereotypical yandere stuff,

Will be updated a lot with new ideas! (y'all can request prompts of you're own too!)

Also due to the prompts being changed, earlier requests will be changed to fit the new batch of prompts

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1. “ah, look... there’s blood all over me.”

2.“in the end... you’re only good for being with me. you’re useless at anything else, aren’t you?”

3.“i’m sorry for stealing your personal belongings... now that you’re here forever, i can return them!”

4.“nothing. without you- i’m... nothing.”

5.“sure, i’ll let you run away. but if i catch you... then it’s fair game for me to do what i want.”

6.“feeling dizzy? well, it’s too late to realize: you already ingested what i slipped in your drink.”

7.“aah, forgive me for what i must do... i just can’t live on without you...!”

8.“if you think of leaving, i’ll make death seem like a blessing to you.”

9.“well, maybe if you’d accepted my confession, all these people wouldn’t have had to die...”

10.“it’s cute how you think you have a choice!”

11.“i don’t care if you think i’m a monster; i’ve decided you’re mine.”

12.“you have no idea... the things i’ve done while thinking of you, darling...”

13.“i tried my best to be a normal lover... but it simply won’t work. you understand, right?”

14.“you don’t know how much i hate being this way- but i can’t change.”

15.“anyone who could rescue you is already dead. give up.”

16.“if you keep screaming, you could damage your vocal cords- go ahead, i don’t mind.”

17.“the more you squirm, the more excited i’ll get.”

18.“apologize? why would i? i haven’t done anything i didn’t have the right to.”

19.“i’m trying really hard to be nice to you here, but you’re making it real hard.”

20.“want to escape? tell me, what other person would ever love someone like you?”

21.“the outside is so dangerous, don’t you see? if i wasn’t here to protect you, who knows what would happen to you...”

22.“i tried my best to be a normal lover... but it simply won’t work. you understand, right?”

23.“you just aren’t fit to be on the outside world. stay here with me- i’ll take care of you.”

24.“i don’t care if it’s the drugs making you speak; say you love me, again.”

25.“don’t look at me like that... you know i do everything i do because i love you.”

26.“you’re so sweet... i’m addicted to your presence.”

27.“There is no one who's more loyal than me! I'm tied to you, just like you are to me.”

28.“i ordered you to stay quiet. stop crying.”

29.“why are you so ungrateful? there’s nobody else other than me who could ever love such a miserable creature like you.”

30.“if i was you, i wouldn’t bother trying to escape. you’re too weak.”

31.“Kiss me. Now.”

32.“i wish i could love you the normal way.”

33.“i’ve tried to be tolerant, but your disobedience has reached a limit i cannot ignore.”

34.“that’s right, just accept me... you’ll be so happy with me...”

35.“i didn’t mean to- no, god, i love you so much...! how could i have done this?”

36."from now on, you're my pet- go on, keep me entertained"

37."don't you dare think of anyone other than me"

38."it's ok if you don't love me, i'll still do whatever i want"

39."you look beautiful when you sleep... i'd know- i watched you, after all"

40."did you think you could escape me...? don't you know we're meant for each other? you're destined to return to me"

41."say you love me, or else i might do something we both won't like"

42."are you so desperate for human contact you'll come to me? good, that was the point"

43."well, you can sleep here with me, or i could chain you up and make you sleep on the ground. it's your choice"

44."all i ever asked was for you to love me back... are you so selfish you won't even give me that?"

45."if you're smart, you're going to stop struggling and kiss me back right now"

46."i'll use you to my heart's content. don't you dare complain- it's what you deserve"

47."i never claimed to be a good person. if you didn't want this to happen, you shouldn't have made me fall in love with you"

48."did you think you could escape me...? don't you know we're meant for each other? you're destined to return to me"

49.“i’m starting to think you’re a bit of a masochist. i mean, why else would you keep angering me over and over again?”

50.“stop crying- you made me mad. tears aren’t getting you out of this one.”

51.“if you behave, we’re all going to be happy here, so why do you keep acting out?”

52.“i’ll count to three, and you better say you love me, or else i’ll do something neither of us will like.”

53.“apologize?”

54.“"do you honestly think I enjoy hurting you?"

55."controlling? oh, i'll show you controlling!"

56."don't worry sweetheart, i'll never leave your side."

57.“you belong to me. i own you, body and soul.”

58.“what is it you don’t understand? nobody is ever going to love you like i do. nobody will ever understand how i feel about you.”

59.“i was normal, you know? you awoke something inside of me- you fucked me up.”

60.“i threw away all my morals for you; i don’t care if what i do is wrong anymore.”

61.“toxic relationship...? my, i think you’re a bit confused- i’m simply taking care of you, don’t you know?”

62.“i hunger for you, darling. your beauty, your presence; i need them like i need air.”

63.“perhaps you’re right in that i don’t love you, at least in the traditional sense. i’m obsessed with you- i need you, more strongly than the word love can imply.”

64. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

65. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it all go away”

66.“who are they gonna believe? It's your word over mine.”

67. “I promise to be by your side forever and ever and ever.”

68. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just loved me.”

69. “Smile for me. It makes me feel better.”

70. “I would never hurt you, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them.”

71. “Just... Ngh, take it for me?.”

72. “I promise to be by your side forever and ever and ever.”

73. " I will kiss you until your lips bleed. Just let me have this , I wanted to do this for so long."

74. “You know what I’m capable of, so just smile and play along.”

75. “Close your eyes, you don’t want to see this.”

76. “You don’t need to be scared of me, I’d never hurt you.”

77. " You agreed to be mine so you must feel the same!"

78. “i said I'd find you no matter where you are.’’

79. " Say you love me! Please say you love me! It's all I want to hear for the rest of my life!"

80."did you think you could escape me...? don't you know we're meant for each other? you're destined to return to me."

81. " Kissing you like this is all I ever wanted."

82. “Stop yelling! You don’t know what you’re saying!”

83. " I was the one that wrote that love letter !"

84. " I don't care if your eyes are filled with love or hate, I just want you to look at me."

85. " Ooh I love you- too much it seems...”

🌠

#yandere demon slayer #dark themes #demon slayer angst #yandere core #yandere kny x reader #yandere x reader #yandere aesthetic #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kokushibou #kny smut #yandere+demon+slayer+x+reader #yandere tanjirou kamado #yandere upper moons x reader #yandere yoriichi x reader #yandere mitchikatsu #yandere hashira #yandere muzan

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hlizr50 · 3 years ago

Text

Update: The Raven and the Songbird

Chapter 8 (It's a long one, y'all)

A choice, a conversation, and a question

Read on AO3

Azriel’s body was perfect.

Anyone who disagreed was surely blind.

Gwyn had been watching him for the better part of half an hour, choosing to sit in silence when he hadn’t acknowledged her presence. There was no possible way he didn’t know she was there – he would have scented her at the very least. Azriel was one of the most accomplished warriors in the history of Prythian, after all, and no-one could ever enter his sphere without notice. She had only managed a handful of times, and she had a sneaking suspicion that his shadows had been responsible.

Those shadows were coiled tightly to their master tonight, looking like they might snap from even the slightest brush of a finger. They mirrored the tension that rippled over the shadowsinger’s bare back. Gwyn smirked to herself as she silently cursed the Illyrian for focusing his frustration solely on the post in front of him, facing away from her and cruelly limiting her ogling. He’d opted for punches and kicks, no doubt requiring impact and pain to relieve whatever it was that had weighed on him today. She would have quite enjoyed the sight of that gloriously elaborate eight-pointed star, appreciating how the sweat would bead and trickle down his spine or between the muscled ridges of his stomach.

Mother above, he was beautiful.

Both of the Illyrians in her life were impossibly tall and built of solid muscle. They were the definition of power. But Cassian and Azriel were so utterly different. The general was brute force, hulking muscle, arrogant. The spymaster, though… He was leaner, strength hidden underneath an unfair amount of grace for a male of his stature. Gwyn had seen him shirtless many times, but rarely did she have the chance to appreciate the vision that he truly was. She wanted to memorize the tangled strokes of the tattoos that waterfalled down his neck and over his shoulders. She marveled at the ease with which he moved, even with his long legs and arms. His wings were magnificent, even as silver ribbons of scars streamed over the thin skin. She’d heard Nesta, Cassian, and Emerie talk about wingspan and how it related to other parts. That wasn’t particularly important to her, but it had still made her blush.

And his hands.

She knew Azriel was determined to hide and hate them, just as much as she was to love them and prove to him how special they were. She nearly crumpled in tears every time she recalled the cruelty that had marked them, fire and torment melting the flesh as quickly as it could be woven back together. The story of his childhood had shattered her heart, and she was even more awed that he had somehow grown into someone so considerate, noble, and kind. Gwyn longed to hold those hands, to trace her thumbs over the mottled flesh and make him feel her adoration for them. But she wanted them to adore her, as well. To feel those graceful calloused fingers gliding over her skin…

She felt warmth coil deep in her belly as it crept into her cheeks. Gwyn blinked away the haze in her eyes and chided herself. There was no reason to think things like that – she shouldn’t get ahead of herself.

The priestess scowled as she saw blotches of red blossoming over the strips of cloth wrapped around his hands. Enough was enough. She pushed herself up off the stone and strode over to where the Illyrian continued to batter the post, shadows still taut around his rippling shoulders and incredible wings.

“What’s wrong?” she called, making sure he could hear her over the echoing thunder of his fists against the padded wood. Azriel paused but didn’t turn to face her.

“Nothing.” He squared his shoulders again, but she would not have it.

“You’re a liar, Shadowsinger.” He straightened but didn’t respond. So Gwyn continued. “You were tense during training this morning and you skipped dinner. And I can only assume you were here instead because, violent and powerful as you are, it would take you longer than the last half hour or so to beat your hands to a bloody pulp.” She crossed her arms, the billowing blue of her robes tucking under her wrists. Gwyn bore into his back with her eyes, willing him to turn around and face her. She’d be damned if she let him shut her out, not after things had been going so well. She could feel her heart beating in time with his measured breaths, those toned shoulders shimmering as they rose and fell in the moonlight. She was so entranced by his breathing that she jumped when he flared his wings.

He finally turned around. His shadows had loosened, if only slightly. But it was a start. Gwyn shot him a grin, daring him to tell her that she was wrong – to deny that something was eating at him.

“It appears I’m caught, then.” Azriel’s voice was quiet and measured. Most wouldn’t understand how it differed from his usual tone, but it set the priestess on edge. She looked into the dark gaze of the spymaster, and somehow the angles of his face had sharpened. “Interesting training attire.” Gwyn ignored the lightning that seared through her as his eyes swept over her body, even though she knew there wasn’t much to see thanks to those robes.

“I didn’t come here to train.” She rolled her eyes. The shadowsinger’s cold stare flickered for a moment, a crack in that practiced stoic expression.

“Then why –“

“I came out here to make sure you were alright, Azriel.” Cauldron, he could be so dense. She cocked her head, watching his face relax as her words sank into him. And she might have heaved a relieved sigh as his shadows started twirling like candle smoke and hazel gleamed back at her in his widened eyes. Satisfied that she had been able to reach through his veil of detachment she strode toward him. Gwyn did not move her eyes from his, even as she stopped in front of him and pulled at one of his battered hands. She cradled it in both of hers, allowing her fingertips to caress the whorls of skin and blood-soaked rags. “Why don’t we go inside. I’ll take care of these and you can tell me what’s bothering you.” She kept her hold on him gentle, though she couldn’t help but tighten her fingers around his for fear that he might pull away. The priestess studied his tanned face, trying desperately to read any hint of where his silence was leading them. The spymaster mask had slipped, but aside from the pooling light in his hazel gaze and the easy wafting of the shadows there was no breath of what he was thinking.

Gwyn lowered her gaze, frustrated that he was still so reserved. But she would not give up – that was not her way. So she sighed as contentedly as she could muster and focused on his hand. She drew her fingers softly over his knuckles, surely cracked and stinging under the crimson stains she traced. Her fingers followed the paler lines of scars to the end of one finger, then the next, until she had attended to every piece of exposed skin she could find. Then she folded his fingers into his palm and raised his hand to her chest. She dared a glance up at him and found it difficult not to cower away from the intensity in his visage – burning liquid pools of hazel seemed to pierce straight into her soul. But she gathered her courage – from where she did not know – and stared back, lowering her chin and brushing her lips over his knuckles. Gwyn felt his intake of breath, even though his lips barely parted and his face betrayed nothing. The air around them grew thin and taut and she waited, once again, for him to pull away.

When his hand squeezed one of hers, she knew her cheeks had flushed a deep crimson. Mother, she was sure her face looked giddy with child-like hope, but she smiled up at that perfect face when she squeezed back. She earned a soft crooked grin in return.

“Lead the way, priestess.”

~~~

Azriel kept his wings tucked close as he was silently led through the house. It had not gone unnoticed by him that Gwyn had not released his mangled hand, choosing to keep those long fingers of moonlight tangled loosely with his own. He couldn’t quell the warmth that spread through him, and he couldn’t stop shadowy tendrils from circling down his arm and looping around the contact. If the priestess noticed she didn’t show it as she pushed open the door to the library.

“The library?” He raised his eyebrows, but his question was soft. He had assumed she would guide him to his room, but realized as soon as he’d voiced his surprise that it was a ridiculous assumption to make. Being alone together in his room would feel extremely intimate, and she was likely not ready for that.

“Is that alright?” Gwyn asked him as she turned to him with that lovely hand still grasping his own. “We could have gone to your room, but I know your privacy and space are important to you. I didn’t want to intrude on that.” Her head cocked as she blinked toward the ceiling, freckled nose scrunching in thought. Azriel felt the corner of his mouth quirk, unable to suppress his fondness for how expressive her features were. The warmth inside him took root as her words registered. She’d been thinking of him. Of his comfort and not her own. Irreverent and spontaneous as she was, her consideration for those she cared for was thorough and thoughtful. As surprising as she always was with her candor, Azriel was floored by the depth of her compassion.

“Actually, I’m not even sure I know where your room is so,” she shrugged and tugged him over to the settee, “the library will have to do. Now sit.” The spymaster dropped onto the cushions as if his body were unable to resist her command for even a moment, though she let go of him when he did so. The absence of her gentle touch left him aching and he looked up at her gleaming teal eyes. “I need some things to tend to your hands. Promise you won’t leave?” His heart pinched at the earnest plea as he tried to understand the emotions churning in that ocean-deep gaze.

“You have my word, Gwyn.” He hadn’t meant for his voice to be so rough, thick with other promises he wanted the priestess to ask of him. But he was inwardly smug as he watched the blush stain her freckle-painted cheeks.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered and scurried out into the hallway.

Azriel allowed himself a chuckle at her reaction, running a hand through his dark locks. Then his mirth settled, a weight in his gut replacing the contentment he had felt only seconds before. He didn’t want to talk to anyone about his distaste for Illyria, least of all Gwyn. He didn’t want to see her eyes darken from his own sorrow, and he couldn’t bear for her to realize that just by being Illyrian he was a potential danger to her – a monster.

But, Mother above, this was Gwyn. He’d promised that he wouldn’t pull away, that he wouldn’t decide how she would react instead of giving her a chance. And somehow that beautiful warrior would not see the same things he did. Something inside him just felt it. So he would be brave and he would lay himself bare to her. Again. And he knew, terrifying as it was, that he would do it over and over – she need only pin him with that hopeful, caring gaze.

A clinkinterrupted his reverie, and he saw a porcelain bowl sitting on the coffee table, the water still rippling from its sudden appearance – no doubt a request to the house from Gwyn. As if on cue Azriel shifted his attention to the door and found the lovely copper-haired priestess pulling it closed behind her, a basket in her hands. He allowed himself a grin and let his gaze follow her as she crossed the room and placed the basket next to the bowl of water. Then she hiked up the waterfalls of blue robes and sat – somewhat unceremoniously – facing him on the couch. She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, surveying her supplies and formulating her strategy, and the shadowsinger could feel the heat coil low in his stomach at the sight. It was a small mercy that she gestured for his hand and released that lip from her teeth.

With less trepidation than he expected, Azriel placed his scarred hand in Gwyn’s alabaster grip, but kept his focus planted on where they touched. Her long fingers were nimble as they worked against knots to unwrap the crimson-stained rags. As he might have expected, the wounds had already closed, his Illyrian blood providing swift healing. When the priestess scowled playfully, nose scrunched, he couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“I suspect I might not have required your medical expertise, Berdara.” But the priestess just shrugged a shoulder, unaffected by the turn of events.

“It was only an excuse to get you to stop and talk to me,” Gwyn admitted before looking up at him, beaming that her ruse had succeeded. “So I’ll wash off the blood and make sure everything is fine. And you’ll start talking.”

Azriel just stared at her for a moment, shadows flaring in his periphery at her unabashed statement. Her hair shone like flames in the fae light as it fell over her shoulders, her focus firmly on his hand. She had dipped a cloth in the water bowl and started dragging it gently across his knuckles, cleaning the red stains from his mottled skin.

“I’m waiting, Shadowsinger,” she cooed.

“I have to go to Illyria. Tomorrow. With Cassian and Rhys,” Azriel sighed, and had his hand been free he might have flopped dramatically into the back of the settee. When the priestess remained silent he whispered venomously. “I hate it there.” Gwyn still didn’t look back up at him, and he wondered if she did that purposefully, as well, so as not to make him feel more pressure than the anxiety that already gnawed into his chest.

“You don’t lead the armies. Why do you have to go?”

Cauldron, if she only knew how many times he’d asked the same damned question.

“For… status checks such as these my primary purpose is intimidation.” He let his eyes wander over the rainbows of book spines filling the shelves on the end wall, once-vibrant hues dulled by time and dust. “We present a united front, the leadership of the Night Court and their forces.” Azriel felt the warm cloth on his hand pause and he turned his attention back to the Valkyrie who now looked up at him, head tilted in curiosity.

“So you, Cassian, and the High Lord?”

Azriel nodded. “I believe the High Lady will be joining us, as well. Sometimes Mor accompanies us, as a representative of the Hewn City. We’ve tried a few different strategies regarding who makes these visits.” He couldn’t hide the contempt in his words. “But we’ve found a strong female presence is… rarely helpful. Even though it is proof of the point that Rhys and Cassian are trying to make.”

“Rhys and Cassian, but not you?” The shadowsinger inwardly cringed at the implication that he may not share his brothers’ beliefs about the value and potential of Illyrian females, but the priestess before him held no judgment in the depth of those teal pools. Azriel ran his free hand through his hair.

“My brothers have been quite insistent that Illyrian females have the opportunity to train, should they choose, as well as putting a stop to some of their more barbaric traditions and practices.” He stifled a gasp as Gwyn’s fingers traced over his now-clean knuckles, examining them for any remaining injury. Apparently satisfied, she set that hand in his lap before lifting her gaze.

“But you don’t include yourself in that effort?” Her eyes narrowed, but her lips lifted in a wry grin. “I know firsthand that you also believe that females should be trained and can be capable in battle –“

“More than capable, priestess, as you have proven.”

Gwyn’s smile widened. “So why is it that you separate yourself from them?”

“Of course I share their beliefs, and I would love nothing more for wing clipping to be a figment of a dead past and for camp leaders to stop insisting that weapons must be buried once females touch them. I just don’t have faith that the Illyrians will ever change.” He loved his brothers. They were the best males he’d ever known, their hearts and minds full of so much hope. But Illyria would always be a cesspool of brutality and carnage.

“You believe so little in their potential?” Gwyn’s face had softened, no lines crinkling her nose or the corners of her eyes, swirling orbs of concern. His shadows held tight to him, unmoving with his bitterness. Not a single tendril reached for the warrior who gingerly grasped his other hand and pulled it into her lap. “You and Cassian and the High Lord are all Illyrian, and the three of you have grown into quite exemplary males.” After that soft statement she turned her attention to the bloody wraps, sighing contentedly. He watched the top of her copper-tressed head.

“Cassian and Rhysand are the best of us. I’m not –“

“Azriel.”

His throat bobbed at the quiet reprimand in her voice. Gwyn’s grip on his hand had tightened considerably and the rest of her body had tensed. Silence thickened the air and it fell over him like a blanket, urging the shadows closer to him, to safety. When she looked up at him again his mouth nearly fell open at the intensity of her expression.

“Why do you do that?” He was taken aback by the roughness in her voice, usually a sweet, soothing song. “You are one of them. You are. Their hearts and souls are no more pure and precious than yours. And even if we spoke only of you, what about being Illyrian would damn you so?”

The shadowsinger gaped, and Gwyn’s bright eyes challenged him to prove her wrong. Just like he knew she would. But, no matter how many times she proved to him the depth of her empathy and understanding, he still felt the pang of shock simmer through him. His fingers tingled in her grasp.

“Tell me, Azriel,” she whispered her near-silent plea.

“Gwyn, you know how the Illyrians are. You’ve seen it with your own eyes and experienced it.” Azriel took a breath and shifted his gaze to their hands, still entwined in her lap. “Illyrians are bred to be brutal in all areas of their lives, violent and entitled and possessive and selfish. They take what they want without thought or regret. They… indulge themselves freely, taking females for their own pleasure with or without consent. And that is the heritage I share. I was created there, just like the other brutes, to be a monster. Powerful, yes, and lucky as fuck to have found myself under the care of Rhysand’s mother. But a monster, nonetheless.”

The spymaster kept his lidded attention on his bloodied hand and Gwyn’s delicate pale fingers tightened impossibly further around it. He focused on the contrasts – his darkened, ruined skin under the freckle-spattered moonstone of hers; her two hands unable to wrap completely around his much larger one.

“You’re not a monster. You’re not a brute. And no matter what happens, I will always be here to remind you of that.” Azriel closed his eyes, shuddering at her conviction. He felt her hands moving again but kept his eyes closed, unsure of how to continue. He felt the wet cloth against his skin and knew his priestess had resumed her ministrations, washing away the stains of his frustration and contempt.

Minutes passed in silence as he focused on the dampness against his skin and the soft, comforting breaths of the incredible female in front of him. Then the cloth was gone, his fingers guided to fold around her hand, and then he felt two fingers lifting his chin. Azriel took a breath to gather his courage and lifted his gaze, finding full lips in a soft smile, constellations of freckles dusting pink cheeks, and the most incredible, impossibly expressive teal eyes shining with emotion. The fingers left his chin but he barely noticed, lost in that ocean.

“When you go to Illyria, I want you to remember what I’m about to say.” He gave a nod when she paused, waiting for him. “Nobody is just one thing, Azriel. Being Illyrian does not doom you to a life of committing atrocities and causing pain. There is hope there. Remember Balthazar? He aided Nesta and Emerie during the Blood Rite. I know there aren’t many, but they are there. Think of Cassian and Rhysand, who you say are the best of males. They have far outshone the picture of damnation that you’ve painted.” Gwyn squeezed his hand and he squeezed back. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, as he swore he saw a fine line of silver on her lower lashes.

“But what I really want you to think about is you. You’ve shared your history with me, Azriel. You have experienced pain and loneliness and darkness greater than most can even imagine, and your power is some of the greatest that Prythian has ever known. You had every reason and every opportunity to become a monster. If anyone could have become the most fearsome, brutal male it could have easily been you. But you didn’t.” Azriel felt pinpricks in his eyes, and the way the priestess smiled at him… that light seemed to breach his very soul. “You are here, a dedicated servant to your court. You do the things you must, to protect your family and your home. You are thoughtful and kind and more generous than you probably realize. You are not a monster, but you areIllyrian. And you are sitting here with me, holding my hand. Being Illyrian has not defined who you are. And there are likely others out there who are the same. Try to remember that.”

Azriel let out a disbelieving huff, but he felt his lips curl into the slightest grin. This warrior priestess was going to be the death of him – a certain death of broken-down walls and encouragement and fierce rebuttal of the self-loathing that had been with him far longer than he could truly remember. It was uncomfortable, and he almost didn’t know who he would be without it. But the way Gwyn looked at him, the way she saw him. Maybe he could find himself there.

“Well,” she patted his hand and gave it back to him. “Your wounds are healed, the blood is gone, and hopefully now you can get some rest.” She hopped up and began cleaning up her rags and water, only to give a soft ‘squeak’ as the house vanished them away. He snickered, earning a withering glare, which only made him laugh harder.

“I’m going to bed,” she huffed, sticking out her tongue at him before stalking to the door. Azriel rose quickly to stop her.

“Gwyn,” he called, halting her at the door. She turned to look at him, an expectant eyebrow raised. He reached for the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. “Thank you. For listening. And… and for your encouraging words.” Watching her expression change was like magic, like watching the sun transform the sky as it breached the horizon. The irreverence and playfulness fell away, replaced with that delicate gentle smile and burning compassion in her ocean depths.

“Thank you, Azriel. For trusting me. I am so grateful that you didn’t pull away from me.” She paused before turning back to the door. “Be safe, Shadowsinger.” And then she was gone.

Azriel just stared at the empty doorway, confounded and delighted and… awestruck. And there was nobody to hear his quiet vow when he finally spoke.

“Anything for you, Berdara.”

~~~

He was all but running down the ramp to one of the lower levels of the library. His long legs loped, carrying him closer to his goal – the sweet voice echoing a lilting melody through the stacks. Azriel kept his wings tucked close, knowing that if he unfurled them even a little he may be tempted to fly.

He was sure Clotho and the other priestesses would not appreciate such brazenness.

He didn’t think he would ever describe a visit to Illyria as pleasant, but even he couldn’t deny the optimism that had somehow permeated his soul. It had helped him open his eyes beyond his own bitterness. She had helped him. Of course he had been every bit the feared spymaster that he was required to be, but he had surprised Rhys and Cassian when he had joined them for every meeting and observation, choosing to utilize those few moments of downtime to execute his more covert tasks. They were to debrief immediately with the rest of the Inner Circle – given only enough time to wash before they were required at the River House. But as soon as he had smelled the air of Velaris all he could think about was the lovely Valkyrie priestess who seemed to be a balm to his scars.

He was breathing hard when he spotted her, shadows flitting at the enchanting picture before him.

“Gwyn.”

Her singing stopped as her head whipped to face him, face splitting into the brightest smile. “Shadowsinger! Welcome home!” If their relationship were different – if it were further along – he might have run to her, gathered her up and swung her around in his arms. Gods knew he wanted to. But he had to keep himself in check, at least for now. So he settled for a grin and walked briskly toward her. Her eyes darkened in question. “Do you need something? When did you get back?”

“A few minutes ago. I don’t have much time – we’re supposed to go debrief at the River House with Amren and Mor. But I do need something.” Gwyn’s smile had softened but she giggled.

“Alright, well I’ll do whatever I can –“

Her voice halted when she noticed that Azriel had extended his hands to her in silent question. He could never just grab her, but he prayed to the Cauldron, the Mother, to all the gods above that she would take his scarred hands in hers. Confusion fluttered over her features, but he grinned, hoping she was encouraged. He released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding when she cautiously lifted those robed arms, placing her palms in his open ones.

“Az?”

“I do need something. I need to ask you… if you would join me for dinner tomorrow?” For once he could be smug, seeing the surprise light in her eyes and knowing this wasn’t what she expected. He was emboldened. By her. So he brushed his thumbs over her knuckles as he continued. “I know it’s only been a few weeks. And I’m sure I haven’t done nearly enough to prove myself, but I just –“

“Yes.”

His eyes had to be wide as saucers, and his breath seemed to have escaped his chest. But he didn’t need it. Not when Gwyneth Berdara, hands still safe in his own, smiled at him that way – corners of her eyes crinkling above flushing cheeks.

“You came straight here – knowing you were needed immediately by the High Lord – just to ask me to dinner?” Gwyn snickered but it caught in her throat, betraying emotions that stormed in her beautiful eyes. He released one of her hands, only to grasp the other with his scarred fingers.

“Yes,” he breathed, lifting that pale hand and brushing his lips lightly over the soft skin of her fingers. A shadow twirled down his arm and danced where they touched, but Azriel’s focus was pinned to her face. He was relieved to see no sign of discomfort, but a furious blush had painted her cheeks and the points of her ears. And he chuckled. She could not be more lovely. “I want to see what comes next, Berdara.” She shook her head.

“We need to work on your priorities, Shadowsinger.” She scrunched her nose and then gave him an easy shove with their tangled hands. “Go, you’re going to be late.” He kept ahold of her, jerking her forward lightly. Smirking, he kissed her knuckles again before letting her go.

“I’ll see you in the morning, priestess. I hope you haven’t been slacking in my absence.” Azriel winked at her – Mother above the things she made him do – and turned on his heel, moving much more slowly to leave than he had to find her.

“You’re going to wish we had!” she threatened. And he laughed, throwing his head back, reveling in the joy he felt. Whatever was next, he was ready to face it. And he wanted to face it with Gwyneth Berdara.

Tag List: @trashforazriel @tealnymph24 @secretlovelybeauty @meher-sumedha @imsointobooks @flora-shadowshine @positivewitch @tanvee1231 @imwritingthesewords @camreadsum @vikingmagic33 @katiebellf @shisingh @gwynrielsupremacist @sagureads @deedz-thrillerkilller16 @sv0430

#gwynriel #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fanfic #fanfiction #gwyn x azriel #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #azwyn #ao3 #ao3fic

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arcadia-city-stories-if · 3 years ago

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TELL ABOUT THE OTHER IF (please💕)

Gonna answer all these in a one while shovelling my lunch so please excuse typos lol

Under the cut for rambling reasons

Ok so, there's two big differences for me. The main difference number one - the stakes.

Arcadia has been a concept I have been obsessed with for over a year, it's been the thing on my mind that whole time, I know what I want to do for at least 4 books and it takes up the whole of my heart and brain on any given day of the week.

This new one - I came up with on the bus ride to work. Lol.

Difference number two - the demo

The demo for Arcadia (beautiful bane of my life that it is) is very very important for setting up things that will be relevant for a slew of reasons, every single decision makes a difference to the base of the MC's character and incidents and flavour text that will be throughout the whole rest of the book, and I plan to release it as perfect as I can make it so that I don't have to break anyone's saves when I update the chapter after it because I'm afraid y'all wouldn't read it twice lol.

The demo for the new IF would literally be an exercise for me to keep writing little inconsequential bits and pieces and still practice coding with very low stakes involved, and could literally update it in chunks rather than setting lofty goals for myself because I have no self-imposed impossible standards to meet on this one lol.

Now about the other IF!

MC would be a film star at the top of their game, 24, happily married to a renowned musician, successful, media darling, etc etc. But behind the scenes is another matter, within the first year of your marriage you walked in on your spouse naked in bed with their ex, who then went on to sell their story to the tabloids and ever since then your life has been in a constant state of damage control while everyone in your camp tries to work out how you're both going to get through this without destroying both of your careers.

This whole idea came to fruition because the guy I'm working for has celebrity news streaming on the telly in the kitchen all day and y'all, the things I have learnt lol, but there's also a lot of stuff that'd be fun to play with. You're an actor so I'd get to write little scenes that are basically prompts because you're acting and I'd get to deal with some spicier scenes earlier in the game if you chose to play it that way cos celebrities are messy as fuck apparently lol.

Right now I'm thinking there'd be 4 or 5 ROs, the spouse, your childhood friend turned pa, your repeated love interest co-star that people have been publicly shipping you with (think Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain, emma stone and gosling, lady gaga and that other guy etc), the behind the scenes person who just works there man, and your new bodyguard hired by the studio because of security concerns.

But again, most of this is stream of consciousness stuff that might not come to anything. I just really don't want my progress with coding to backslide, you know? It's been really hard to get my head around and I finally feel like I'm getting a grasp for it and I don't wanna lose that, but I also don't want to taint my main story with subpar effort just because I'm tired lol you know? Of all the reasons I could screw this up, that one would suck so hard lol

#now i gotta go back to work #waaaaah

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klaineccfanficlibrary · 3 years ago

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Hi! I hope y'all are doing well. It's been a few months since I've been on Tumblr. I'm back for some new fics. I'm interested in suggestions for WIP that y'all are really enjoying and I should catch up on. I just started @gleefulpoppet Better Knot Bow Tie Company and it's so lovely but I'm looking for more to read. Thanks for all you do in keeping this library.

Unless noted, all the fics listed below are active WIPS. - HKVoyage

LYNNE I am completely and totally in love with this story. I hope I don’t catch up before it’s complete but I can’t stop reading it!

A Summer Story by Kb.Ellen (This updates Wed/Sat every week) When an injury forces Kurt to take the summer off from his dream job as a principal dancer with the NYC Ballet, he's anxious to recover and get back to life as he knows it. But can a tiny town in southern Arkansas, a joyful aunt, a town full of good-hearted people and an intriguing local handyman make Kurt reassess what his dreams actually are? Welcome to Cassville.

On my TO-READ list:

Turn Into A Pose by @little-escapist [WIP] Singer-songwriter Blaine Anderson wants to come out of the closet. When his publicist sets him up with movie-star Kurt Hummel, he’s ready for anything, but the last thing that Kurt wants is a relationship with anyone, let alone Blaine. He hates his publicist for setting him up, hates the idea of lying to the world, and hates letting the world invade his personal life. But maybe Blaine Anderson is exactly what Kurt Hummel needs.

~~~~~ The Prince and the Pea by dreamcatcher (darcangell23) [Complete] When a young man shows up at the palace doors drenched from the rain inside, Prince Blaine begins to suspect he may be the missing prince of another kingdom. But when his father refuses to believe the young man to be anything but a peasant, Blaine formulates a plan to prove he is royalty.

~~~~~

Stargazing Memories by @jayhawk-writes [WIP] Kurt reminisces on some of his experiences here in Cassville while waiting for Blaine to show up. This is one of those memories.

*A second thank you to kb.ellen on FF.net for giving me permission to write a fanfic of her fanfic, A Summer Story. Go check it out…it’s fantastic!!

~~~~~

Crimson Yarn by @teddyshoney [Complete] Back from New York, Kurt has just purchased a lake house in need of fixing up to keep him busy while he tries to heal from his past relationship. Back from LA, Blaine reluctantly takes a job from his father while he mourns the loss of his dream. Will red yarn, coffee, and some heavy conversation be enough for both boys to realize that there many be an answer to their healing right in front of them?

HKVOYAGE I’m on a summer hiatus of reading WIPs while I read the Klaine Fanfic Award finalists that are new to me. However, these are the WIPs that I will definitely read when I’m ready. Too many fics and not enough time!

Turn Into A Pose by @little-escapist Singer-songwriter Blaine Anderson wants to come out of the closet. When his publicist sets him up with movie-star Kurt Hummel, he’s ready for anything, but the last thing that Kurt wants is a relationship with anyone, let alone Blaine. He hates his publicist for setting him up, hates the idea of lying to the world, and hates letting the world invade his personal life. But maybe Blaine Anderson is exactly what Kurt Hummel needs.

~~~~~

Better Knot Bow Tie Company by @gleefulpoppet Blaine Anderson has been a Better Knot Bow Tie Company monthly subscriber for years. He's taken a hiatus from Broadway to facilitate the Journey Performing Arts School's summer program in New York. What happens when a zany bow tie sets off a chain reaction of events that may change their futures forever?

~~~~~

Show Me Love, Show Me Life by CoffeeAddict80 | @caramelcoffeeaddict When Blaine Anderson became a vampire over 800 years ago, he gave up on the idea of having close relationships – platonic or romantic – with anyone. As long as he could still have sex, feelings were unnecessary. But there was something different about the new transfer student, Kurt Hummel, that kept drawing him in. Kurt was unlike anyone Blaine had ever met. And Blaine was starting to think that he wasn’t the only one at Dalton with a supernatural secret.

To most people, Kurt Hummel seems like your average high schooler; but there's nothing average about him. Kurt is a warlock – a warlock that can’t use magic. When he was born, his magic went dormant, and no one knows why. But sometimes, he's capable of things that no one – not even Kurt himself – can explain.

~~~~~

Undiagnosed by @esperantoauthor “As he glanced at the calendar, Burt Hummel contemplated—not for the first time—how little he had in common with his only child.”

Burt Hummel doesn’t know how to connect with his son but when he discovers that Kurt has a serious problem, Burt will do anything to help him. Told from multiple perspectives, this is a story about what happens when a problem goes undiagnosed, and what happens when it finally is.

#klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction #fic finder #imdone29 #WIP

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sunnygrey99 · 3 years ago

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Lost Family Pt. 7

A/N: I don't think there is anything in need of a trigger warning in this chapter but if anyone does find something please let me know and I will update it ASAP. Thanks for all the support on this story so far, I really appreciate it. Y'all have no idea how much I appreciate it. That being said it was a long work week so this chapter might be a bit wordier and I may come back and change some stuff later down the road. In that case, I'll leave a note on the next chapter saying I changed things. I hope you guys enjoy it.

The first day of building starts without too many issues. Both of you have plenty of space to work and there's a present playlist playing in the background as you work. Towards the end of the night, however, Harry's work overlaps with your own. Every time he goes to get the pieces of work he needs he places his hand on your waist lightly to keep from fully bumping into you in the increasingly smaller space. It's only a small distraction at first. Then the more often it happens the more you blush at the thought of his hands traveling to other more sensitive spots.

Once the day turns to night and you two had been at the building all day you decide to get dinner for each of you. Making a quick run to Big Belly Burger and local convenience store for the new candy Cisco got you addicted to, you returned shoving the food at Harry.

"Let's call it a night Dr.Wells. We've both been at this since 6 a.m. and its now 11 p.m." You pull his typical order and handed it to him before taking your own to your seat. Hearing a grumble coming from his direction you look to him to see what was wrong.

Harry stared at the food for a long moment and back to his current building parts before giving in for the food. "I didn't even realize it had been that long."

The next couple of days went mostly the same, but on the fourth day, it took an interesting turn. The AC for that half of the building went completely out and it would take weeks to get it fixed. Cisco's Sleep Pod had to get done sooner than that though and it couldn't be moved. The only solution being fewer clothes since there were no windows in the room. The only comfortable thing you could wear in the hot room was your shortest pair of black shorts and a thin loose crop top. Harry seemed to still be able to hand those black jeans and a black tank top.

At first, the heat in the room doesn't affect either of you. But your own body produces so much heat on its own that you start to need the fan in the room directly on you. Work progresses slowly for the two of you. It's only a few hours in the day before Harry walks out of the lab frustrated and sweaty. You follow only a few minutes later with racing thoughts of how damn attractive Harry is glistening with sweat. The noises he makes while working on a particularly difficult piece are downright sinful. The whole cycle happens several times throughout the day. Days five and six go the same.

Day seven though, that's the toughest day for you holding yourself back from tackling the man. The Pod is almost done, it just needs some extra welding on the framing for the extra support. It's the last thing you have to do for the day.

"Hey (Y?/N), can you weld that top part right there next to the connectors?" Harry points to show what he needs. It's pretty high up so you have to steady yourself on a chair to reach it. once you are up there the chair wobbles a little too much and you feel two calloused hands on your sides keeping you steady. "I've got you I promise." You blush nodding at him before turning back and welding. It's increasingly harder to focus at every twitch of his fingers, sometimes sliding lower or higher to keep you stable. Once finished you go to step down. Your grip slipping from the sweat and chair wobbling under you, you fall back. Harry catches you seemingly alright however now your faces are centimeters away from each other. You can't help but stare at his lips before flicking your eyes to look at him in the eyes. "T-thanks, Harry...". It was only a whisper of words as you are steadied. Harry looks at you a bit shocked and then pleased.

"What did I say something wrong?" Pulling away slowly with worry written on your face, he chuckles.

"No it's...just you called me Harry." He scratches his neck a bit before turning back to his station with what looked like a blush across his cheeks.

It takes you a few moments before remembering what you had said to him about calling him Dr.Wells. Then you start thinking about the odd way your view and feelings of Harry have changed. "Yeah... I guess I see you differently now than I did before." Trying to hide your smile was a real challenge but you succeeded. Then a grumble of your stomach tells you the day is done. Well almost. You both go your separate ways for the night but the image of him doesn't leave your mind for the next few hours. The internet has taught you a lot and you knew that if you wanted to sleep you were going to have to take your thoughts to the shower along with the new toy you'd gotten to help keep you from jumping Harry every time you see him. It's a long shower of teasing slowly, harsh changes of rhythm, and a fantasy of Harry tying your arms behind your back before railing you. Then thoughts of him making you ride him at an agonizing pace constantly brought to the edge before being denied. You try your best to stay silent, but sometimes it was too much for small sounds not to escape your lips. Some noises sounded like his name and others were just a muffled moan. The vibrations from your toy pull you to your climax leaving you panting with an empty mind and blurred vision.

The next day in the lab you started off alone which is unusual. You spent the time waiting for Harry cleaning up your welds and polishing off some of the soot. When Harry finally walks in he looks a bit sleep-deprived. His hair was a tousled mess and looked like he just rolled out of bed in his tank top and loose grey sleep shorts.

"Hey Harry, I'd ask if you slept okay but it looks like that's a no. Is everything okay?" You ask him purely hoping to help if you can. He looks at you for the smallest of moments before looking away and grumbling.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. Let's just finish this stupid pod so we can stop working in this tiny, hot room." He didn't sound angry but he wasn't happy either. You nod not wanting to push things further. It turned out to be another long day of close contact with one another, however, it was nearly no talking and Harry seemed to not even want to look at you.

Harry is connecting the final piece and turning it on to see if it all works before cleaning up and letting Cisco know it was ready for testing. Once the device is fully powered on you stare in amazement. Approaching Harry you put a hand on his shoulder. "You really are a genius, Harry. Thanks for letting me help with this one."

He smiled for the first time that day and looked at you. "I don't think I could have done it, at least not this quickly, without you. So thanks (Y/N) ." Harry looks back at it before clapping his hands and turning to start to clean up. "Let's clean up get the fuck out of this sauna". You chuckle as you do as he suggests. It only takes a few minutes before you two are walking out of the room and heading to get some food. Caitlin had some extra time and made you guys food so you didn't have to eat out every day. It was delicious. The two of you ate in relative silence.

That is until you decide to ask again. "Harry?" His head popped up at his name and looked to you questioningly. "Are you sure you are okay? You've been really quiet today and when you walked in this morning it looked like you had a rough night."

He seemed to turn a bit red at the question and slowly chewed the rest of his bite of food. "I uh...just couldn't really sleep. So I've been tired. You really don't need to worry about it...I...I think I'm going to go try to catch up on that sleep now. Have a good night (Y/N) ". Harry seems to hurriedly put his remaining food away and rush off to his room. It's odd for sure but you decide not to think about it too hard. It's late anyway and you finish your food and head to your own bed. Dreaming of the sweetest things and also some of the spiciest things.

Part 8

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unprofessional-bard · 4 years ago

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Chapter 9 - Love Among the Ruins

Losing My Religion Series Masterlist

Unprofessional Bard's Masterlist

Previous Chapter • Next Chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female!Reader/OC

Warnings: Angst in the beginning, some fluff in the middle and smutty smutty smut with dirty talk(?) at the end with a surprise 😌

Summary: The lovers finally confront each other.

Word Count: 5.925

Author's Note: For those who are wondering about the date - it's mid September & October, 2035! I'm so sorry for the late update, my inspo was a little low; writing this chapter was disastrous because I changed the course of the story halfway through but after many proofreading's and editing, here we are. My apologies again for keeping you all waiting for so long, I hope y'all are still interested in this series 🥺

Enjoy!

As you had predicted, you hadn't healed an ounce. All your bruises did was change colour and, according to Katherine, it was a sign that you were healing. Bullshit, you had said. You didn't say you knew better than a doctor, but you'd had similar scars like these and they healed quicker in the span of a week than these had in ten days.

"I'm sorry-" You had immediately apologised to Katherine after you let your frustration slip. "I didn't mean to offend you."

"No offense taken," She smiled sadly. "I understand your frustration, (Y/N). Physical damage like yours takes its toll on the person."

"I ain't healing, Katherine." You croaked, sighing. "It doesn't have anything to do with your treatment."

"I know," Katherine caressed your shoulder gently. "You went through hell and you need to rest. You need to heal emotionally so the rest of you can too."

The words stuck to you, of course you knew it had something to do with your mental health, but you didn't know exactly what you needed or needed to do.

But deep down, you knew exactly what you needed.

So that's why -after a total of a week and a day in the infirmary had passed and Tommy visited you by himself on a rainy morning- you decided to confront Joel.

"Hey," Tommy appeared by your door with that stupid smirk and Texan drawl.

"Hey," You chuckled through your nose at the sight of him. Your voice was better than it was a couple of days ago: "You look cheerful."

"No more than usual," Tommy sat down. "How're you feelin' today?"

"No shittier than usual," You scoffed, making him chortle. Before you knew it, the following words rolled out of your tongue: "I want to see Joel." Tommy's expression morphed into a shocked one, as he clearly wasn't expecting you to say that, so you added while he remained silent: "That ass hasn't visited me once."

"He... actually did- does," Tommy cleared his throat. "But you don't know that 'cause he does when you're asleep."

Your eyes widened at the new information, your brows immediately knitted: "What?"

"Dolly, look-"

"Don't you Dolly me!" You hissed. "Tommy Miller, you're no less of an ass than your brother!"

"Why am I an ass now?!" Tommy objected.

"You knew he visited me and kept it from me?!" You raised your voice.

"What's going on?" Daisy suddenly walked in, hearing the commotion from meters away.

"Nothing- don't worry," He quickly lowered his voice and reassured her. "Something bit Dolly in the ass."

"Oh fuck you Tommy," You flipped him off. "You're lucky I'm stuck to this damned bed, or I'd smack the shit out of you-"

"Why is my husband's sister-in-law smacking the shit out of my husband?" Maria appeared out of nowhere, smirking as she looked at the scene in front of her.

Tommy liked to refer to you as her sister-in-law, even though you weren't labelled as married with Joel; it unintentionally became a habit of the actually married couple and, even though the road ahead wasn't clear for you, they made you a part of the family. You didn't mind, you didn't try to protest against it because this was exactly the same case with "Dolly".

"Your husband is being an ass!" You groaned.

Tommy stayed quiet for a moment, then sighed in defeat. "You know what? You're actually right. I should've told you."

"...It's okay," You didn't look him in the eyes as you exhaled heavily.

A confused Daisy walked out of the room with an okay, nevermind kind of expression on her face, making Maria walk into the room and close the door behind her: "What happened?"

"Joel visits me while I'm asleep and none of you bother to tell me about it?" You looked between them in a displeased manner.

Maria and Tommy exchanged a guily look between themselves, then Maria spoke: "Yeah, we should've told you, you're right... but you said you weren't ready to face him just yet. He knows this and he's ashamed of what he did, so I think he thought it was better to visit you like that than not visit at all."

"Well, I'm not going to pussy out and avoid this furthermore, I want to see him." The couple exchanged another worried look before you added: "Bring him here- to me."

Tommy chuckled. "He'll come running, don't worry, but he just left for patrol..."

"Oh... okay. Afterwards, then." You said, calmer now.

"I'll let him know when he returns," Maria turned to her husband and then back to you. "I'm glad you decided to talk to him - one of you had to do it sooner or later and, well, I knew it was going to be you."

You gave Maria an alien look, many emotions running through your mind as she continued: "You may not be aware, but you're quite confrontational. I think Ellie got that from you."

"Oh, no," You smiled a little. "I got it from her. She's the most confrontational kid I've ever seen."

Maria smiled back: "As I was saying, you're confrontational, but Joel isn't - according to Tommy, anyways."

"You're right, to some level anyway," You looked at Tommy, then leaned back on your pillows.

Whether they liked it or not, a person has to come face to face with their mistakes, accept them, learn from them and move on. It was easier said than done of course, you knew this better than anyone - suddenly you felt sick to your stomach, memories of your first weeks in Jackson interrupting your train of thought, all of a sudden making you nauseous and giving you a desperate urge to be left alone.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" Maria sat beside you. "You're going paler by the second-"

"I'm fine," You gulped. "Just- old memories-"

Maria immediately took your hand which was closest to her in both of hers: "It's going to be okay, nothing that can't be sorted out."

"I know," You smiled weakly, the need to empty your insides crawling up your throat. "I should rest a while, I don't feel too well-"

"Should I call Kat?" Tommy asked and Maria gave you a concerned look.

"No, no, I'm fine, I just- I need to sleep for a bit..." You gave her hand a weak, reassuring squeeze, then closed your eyes and pressed your head against the pillows. The couple took this as their cue and left quietly, letting you fall into a long sleep.

----

It was a tough day for the eldest Miller brother. He was absolutely drained and currently sleeping on the uncomfortable, leather chair outside your room after a rather harsh patrol; his arms were crossed and legs were spread and he was sure his neck would've snapped in half if he hadn't woken up to the echoing of a door opening. He quickly sat up, all those years out in the wild having made his hearing hypersensitive, and cursed quietly, rubbing his neck and groaning. The watch on the wall read 19:07 and his head snapped towards your door immediately, but before he could get up, a voice he wasn't entirely fond of scratched at his ears.

"Hey man..." It was Walt. He scratched the back of his neck as Joel slowly turned his head toward him. "I- I wanted to see how she was doin'..."

Joel just nodded: "She's cross with you, but she'll appreciate that."

"Wait- you cool with me visiting her?" Walt halted, making Joel sigh and cross his arms.

"I am- unless you give me a reason not to be." He said and told the redhead not to push his luck. Walt just nodded and sat beside Joel.

"Would ya mind if I asked what happened?" Walt spoke, his green eyes falling on Joel's hazel ones.

"I do." Joel didn't look at him, focusing on the floor instead. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's just that, I saw Tommy and Maria talking with Eugene and I overheard how your relationship was ah..."

Joel's head snapped at Walt's words which trailed off: "Didn't I just say I don't wanna talk about it?"

"Right- you're right, I'm sorry." Walt apologised as Joel gave him an irritated look. "I am, really."

Joel turned his head forward and leaned back, sighing through his nose. He couldn't believe you would've ended up with Walt, of all the people in Jackson, if Ellie hadn't set you two up on Christmas- or, well, if he had died in that hospital while saving his daugh-

"I just wanna say," Walt interrupted Joel's train of thought. "She'll come around. She always does. I pulled off some real stupid shit ever since we became friends and she always forgave me. She's a good person."

Joel side eyed him: "Yeah, she is..."

"But don't tell me you're gonna wait here until she makes up her mind and decides to forgive you Lord knows when?" Walt chuckled. "You don't wait for someone that long..."

Joel turned his head toward him once more and straightened up, hands squeezing his arms tighter at his nonsense: "I am gonna wait. You bet your ass I will - as long as she wants me to. She's broken, but healing- and that kinda healin'?" He pointed at your room. "It takes a lotta time... She has all the time she needs to make up her mind- don't really care if it takes days or weeks. I'm heartbroken too, but in the end, I'll wait."

Walt's smile immediately dropped the second those words left Joel's lips. He was frozen on spot, totally humiliated and couldn't do anything as he added: "I don't expect you to understand. If you loved her like I do, you'd wait."

Joel could tell Walt wanted to be swallowed by a deep hole in the ground - he was utterly dumbfounded and clearly wasn't aware of how your relationship with Joel was love at its truest form.

"I think it's best if you leave now." Joel sighed once more, got up without sparing another look at the shocked man, then quietly walked into your room.

----

You woke up from a reoccurring nightmare right when the chatter outside had began. It's the same scenario: You're captured by Axel, but there are different endings sometimes.

Usually, it's just the image of Axel's ruined corpse. You knew you'd done some pretty fucked up things in the past as a FEDRA soldier and you acknowledged them, but none of them was as bad as this one, you thought. Beating a man to death to the point of bringing his insides out? Even though your acts were mostly justified in your head and by the people who knew the story, you simply couldn't believe you went as far as to torture him to death.

He was right, he did ruin you.

Sometimes, right before you're captured, he shoots Joel in the head while negotiating your surrender. This is the worst one next to the one when you let the darkness envelop you whole- let it embrace you and you end up losing everyone and everything, including your mind. Those are the ones that wake you up with a brutal scream, that has the nurses rushing into your room in panic.

Sometimes it'd be after he captured and tortured you: After hearing the gunshots from outside and fleeing, you'd die and wake up in cold sweat with trembling hands. Sometimes, one little mistake and either Tommy or Joel -or both- would die. Sometimes you'd die right in front of them- Axel would shoot back instead of running like a coward and the bullet would put a hole between your brows. The thing that scared you wasn't the dying bit, it was the fear of failure and agony you'd cause to your family: To Joel and Ellie, Tommy, Maria and to the others who cared for you. The way Joel told you not to go after Axel or to not do certain things echoed through your subconscious and you acknowledged just how right he was.

That was what you were afraid of.

Disappointment, disapproval and failure.

In this nightmare, however, you were going hand to hand with Gabe. You remembered how scared you'd felt when he pulled off that move with his legs, trapping your neck between his ankles with incredible flexibility and slamming you to the ground while you were trying to stab him, almost crushing your neck - that scene was replaying in your head, but in this version, he cut off your breathing and you could't get up on time when Joel pushed through. Just as he got into your line of vision to shoot him, however, Gabe reached for the pistol strapped to his thigh and shot Joel in the head; you woke up with a gasp, eyes wide and you were trembling everywhere. You were sweating as if you'd ran a marathon under the sun and your breathing was heavy just as much.

As you laid in the bed, stunned, you heard everything that was being said outside. At first you couldn't hear anything other than your breathing and heartbeat, but as you forced yourself to calm down, the voices got clearer and clearer: It was Walt and Joel.

Your teeth were about to crush from clenching them so tight, you still weren't processing the chatter completely, but you managed to understand only these words:

"If you loved her like I do, you'd wait."

You felt like you were paralyzed on spot, tears rolling out of the corners of your eyes and running down the side of your nose were mixing with the droplets of sweat formed around your face when you heard a soft knock on your door and the opening of it: "Hey..." You were looking bewildered, as if you'd seen some supernatural creature, making Joel alert: "Hey, are you alright?"

You just blinked a couple of times as you shook your head sideways. There was a barbed wire wrapped around your throat, you couldn't reply as he walked to your side, stood just above you and asked: "What's wrong, what happened?"

You were expecting Joel to give you a hug or- just caress your back- anything. But he didn't. He didn't touch you, or call you baby, sweetheart, darling...

Dolly...

For an insane second, the failure you were so afraid of came crashing down along with the lines he spoke outside, making you gasp after realising you'd been holding your breath: "Oh Joel," You finally reached out for him, voice cracking, which reminded him of when he pulled Ellie off of that cannibalistic maniac. He gently took your hand in his and immediately sat down beside you without wasting another second. "I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be sorry, darlin', you got nothing to apologise for." Joel put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest. You were his darlin' again, just like that. His chin rested on your head as you trembled and cried: "You heard what I said, didn't you?" He felt you nod against his chest: "I meant every word of it."

You two stayed like that for awhile. Joel eventually leaned back on the bed with you in his arms and let you snivel, tears of his own rolling down his cheeks and onto your pillow in the meanwhile. His hold never loosened around you: As if, if he let you go at that moment, he'd lose you forever. He suppressed the whines that were stuck in his throat - he didn't want to upset you furthermore, didn't want you feeling guilty than you already were.

"Let me look at you," You whispered after a long time, face pressed against his brown jacket you adored, his scent making it's way into your lungs despite your blocked nose.

Joel reluctantly pulled away then, letting you raise your head so that you could take a proper look at him. His eyes were puffy and wet, just like yours: "You got a lil' something on your nose, miss."

You giggled as he reached for napkins from behind him, stayed quiet and gazed into his eyes as he wiped your nose clean; then he moved onto your wet cheeks, then the corners of your eyes. He was so gentle with you, so gentle, that you almost cried again. He took another napkin and wiped the sweat around your temples, forehead and neck; once he was done, he put the napkin away, then looked into your eyes. You shook your head and looked down, embarrassed: "Will you ever forgive me? I-"

"Shh," Joel carefully grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointing finger, pushed your head up slowly and looked deep into your eyes: "I ain't mad or upset. I would've waited for as long as you needed, if it meant bein' yours again."

Your eyes looked away, feeling more ashamed than ever. After a moment of silence, you figured, you shouldn't be upset any longer -for his sake- and spoke: "Since when were you so fancy with words?"

He chuckled softly: "Ever since I figured you like 'em." You chuckled as well and looked lovingly into his eyes. "Know this, (Y/N): I'd do anything for you. Anything."

You realised then, that a kiss much needed by both parties was long overdue, so you leaned forward and attached your lips onto his, cupping his cheek. He kissed back, passionately and full of emotion with a hint of aching, acknowledging the fact that you'd do anything for him too. Neither of you were aware of Tommy and Ellie watching from the door, the younger Miller smiling to himself, then leaving you two be while your daughter watched her parents, finally reunited and in each other's arms.

Things escalated pretty quickly after that. Your healing improved massively, but the road ahead was still long. Your nightmares were still a thing, but you slept better, so you didn't complain. Everyone's moods had improved as well, the Millers were finally happy which boosted other people's morals. You and Joel did a lot of talking and explaining, promising each other that from then on, you'd be more open to each other about the things that disturb you. Joel had explained how one of Axel's guards had taken his jacket off of him before they left because he knew you'd try to escape and it'd be a convincing trap - you, most importantly, opened up to him about how you felt as you killed the man in question.

"You said that nothing could give you more joy than... killing him," Joel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Did you... did you really mean that?"

You stared and blinked. Of course it hadn't, it could never: "Do you actually think that brought joy to me?" Joel nodded sideways. He knew you didn't enjoy it of course. "You do know that, nothing brings more joy into my life than you- and Ellie, right?" You questioned with a tense expression. Had he really seen through you that clearly to assume that the act of torturing someone gave you joy? But you relaxed when Joel let out a relieved sigh, then nodded up and down. "There's never a single truth spoken on a battle if your aim is to anger or scare your opponent..."

"I know, it's just," Joel looked up at you from where he was seated. "I'd've never thought I'd see you like that. You were... you weren't yourself."

"Were you really surprised?" You asked. "Or were you scared?"

Joel thought on your words for a moment: "I guess... I guess I was scared an' upset. To see you like that- I love you darlin'. I wouldn't want anything makin' you like- like that. I... I almost thought I wasn't-"

It was you who nodded then, letting him sigh in a frustrated manner when he struggled to explain himself, but you understood him: "I know Joel... There are ugly sides to the both of us, but- Trust me, I know."

Tommy was glad Joel had found someone he could comfortably open up to like that, it made him happy to know that his brother was in good hands- your hands, unlike his ex-wife's. A month had passed ever since and you were allowed to leave the infirmary and move back in with your lover. You were able to walk without crutches but you needed someone's help like a pregnant lady who could give birth any minute and, 98% of the time, that someone was Joel, of course.

And as soon as you got home, on a chilly October evening...

"Missed me, did you?" Joel chuckled when you didn't let his hand go after he laid you down on your shared bed. You gave him a shy smile and tugged at his hand, biting your lip as he sat down beside you.

"I'm feeling a lot better because of you," You placed soft kisses on his knuckles. "I wasn't healing properly, you know, before we talked." Joel nodded slowly and returned the gesture on your unoccupied hand - your knuckles, the back of your hand and slowly turning your arm and kissing a trail down to your wrist as you continued: "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, to hold you and to be held by you - I got all of that... But there's another thing I want."

He was no fool, he knew exactly what you meant: "Hm? Whatever could that be?"

"Come closer and I'll tell you," You smirked and that line earned you a hungry kiss as your lover placed himself gently on top of you, getting rid of his clothes in the process.

"Oh, I've wanted this too, would you believe that?" Joel smiled into the crook of your neck as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"Really?" You said, your voice quiet in a whisper, as your fingers went under his shirt and trailed up his ribs. "What a coincidence."

Once his shirt came off and he stood above you, his hungry eyes eating you up with a stare which always had heat pooling between your legs, your playfulness dropped as you took in his features. It had been so long since you'd seen his body, you immediately noticed a few changes: Like a new small scar by the side of his chest and the weight loss, of course: "How much weight did you loose?"

"Well," Joel was caught a little off guard and since you were distracted, he slowly began undoing the buttons of your blouse, invisibly wincing at the few bruises decorating your skin. "I can't exactly know, can I?"

His playful tone put a smile on your lips regardless: "I'm serious Joel- is that a new scar?"

He quickly left your blouse's buttons and dipped down, grinded his aching member against yours, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. When you parted for the sake of getting some oxygen into your lungs, he spoke: "Darlin', it's been some time since we saw each other - it's nothin' to get upset over. Trust me." You nodded and smiled, hands cupping his ass and pushing them up to indicate that you required another kiss, which Joel gladly obliged: "There are more... pressing matters to attend to."

The best part about this sex was, almost nothing hurt. You had taken a good amount of painkillers before you left and, it was like he knew exactly where you were hurt from your encounter a month ago, so he placed his body on yours accordingly. He slowly moved his head down your neck and then to the valley of your breasts, your hands going into his hair as soon as his teeth were nibbling at your nipples, giving each an equal amount of attention which had you soaked already: "Oh Joel-"

"Yes baby," Joel hissed as he planted passionate kisses around your chest, leaving a wet trail on your breasts which he missed very much; he was having a hard time controlling his urge to decorate them along your shoulders and neck with different shades of red and blue, but of course he held back. Your blouse was all the way open as you rubbed your clothed core against his hard cock. Katherine had suggested that you wore a skirt to make things easier for you when you were getting ready to move out, which you had gladly accepted as wearing pants would be uncomfortable difficult... Little had you known it'd make things easier for Joel too.

Your thighs were bare - somehow, only your underwear was covered by the edges of the skirt and the sight almost made Joel moan, much to your delight, so you grabbed him through his underwear and heard the most beautiful sound as a result: "Fuck, (Y/N)," Joel groaned, face twisted up in yearning and pleasure, which inevitably made you moan. "I don't wanna hurt you, baby."

"You won't," You pleaded as he leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours while settling between your legs, his grip on your thighs were somewhere between hard and soft. "I'll tell you if anything hurts, I promise, but for the love of god, just fuck me Joel."

This was probably a stupid idea. The activity would be too tiring for your body and the last thing Joel wanted to do was cause you distress instead of pleasure, but that was just unfair to the man. It was as if you were provoking him to play rough, because despite what you had told him about letting him know if anything hurt, he still was going to hold back... but what you said afterwards gave him all the permission he needed. Your wish was his command.

His pupils dilated before he lifted your skirt up and dipped his head between your legs, pulling your underwear aside and licking a long stripe up your folds after giving your inner thigh a gentle bite. You gasped loudly, his tongue brushing directly over your clit: "God- fuck!" You were loud, but you didn't care, because he was eating you up just like a man who hadn't eaten anything in a month - which was exactly his case. This felt like the first time again. His tongue expertly worked you to your orgasm, licking between your lips as his beard scratched your inner thighs from time to time; holding you down with his arms around your legs, parting them wider and moving his tongue in a variety of directions as he made you moan over and over again. He hummed against your pussy but suddenly stopped and got up to his knees. You whined at the contact loss, never having felt more disappointed in your life: "Joel..."

He quickly but carefully climbed on top of you, then laid down beside you, diving his fingers between your folds and making them linger around your entrance. With a deep kiss, he inserted a finger into you and you thought you were gonna come right then and there at the feeling. You were partly trapped between his body and the bed and you loved it, moans stuck at the back of your throat as you made out a little roughly, his finger an absolute bliss as it reclaimed its place inside you.

"Joel," You gasped. "More... I need more."

"Hm?" Joel groaned into your ear. "More of what?"

"You- Ah-" You moaned when he inserted a second digit inside your walls, leaving you scratching at his back and possibly leaving a few marks in the process. "Fuck..."

"I bet you missed this, huh?" Joel growled quietly into your ear, grinding his erection to the side of your leg as he stretched you with his thick fingers. "I know I did, seeing you like this..."

"Yes," You moaned, your hand going to grab his cock as he lightly sucked hickeys onto your lower neck and collarbone. Joel moaned when you did, a thrill went down your spine at how hard he was and when he unintentionally thrusted his hips up in your hand, your eyes rolled to the back of your head: "Ohh Joel, t-touch me-"

He thrusted his hips one more time into your hand and as soon as his thumb brushed against your clit, a not so subtle and a rather pornographic moan left your lips, head falling back on the pillows with your grip on his shoulders and nails embedded in his skin. You held onto him for dear life as he fingered you through your orgasm, the wet sounds driving him wild: "There you go, baby, you did so well..."

His words of praise and encouragement weren't lost among your shallow breaths - your body was trembling, not having had such a powerful orgasm in a long time took a toll on you. You'd never seen Joel this desperate and shaky too, like a teenager who was about to have sex for the first time (not that your case was any different).

"Does it hurt?" Joel asked while carefully spreading your legs apart. "When I hold you here?" He grabbed your waist gently - you nodded yes. You weren't exactly sure why it hurt, but you must've taken a few hits there. "Okay... How about here?" His hands smoothly moved to your hips and when you made his hands squeeze a little tighter and noticed you were okay, you nodded no. "Good... I'm gonna turn you over, yeah? Is that okay?"

You nodded, and helped him turn you around and lay your lower body on the pillows. He gently placed your legs as far away from each other without hurting you, exposing your glistening pussy and presenting your ass to him in the perfect angle. A rather animalistic grunt left his lips at the sight, but still he made sure you were okay: "You alright baby?"

"Yes..." You moaned eagerly, secretly not really looking forward to the pain you had to endure for a short while before adjusting to his size again - but you needed him, which was enough to take your mind off the pain. Plus, it was going to be like your first time with him, which was an out-of-earth experience; you were excited that you were going to relive something similar to that again.

At first, his hands pressed down on the bed so he didn't apply pressure to you from anywhere as he lined himself up and pushed slightly. You were already stretched by Joel's thick fingers -which you had missed oh so much- and you were absolutely soaked, it took you only a moment to adjust and let him move deeper into you. He lightly snapped his hips into you, making you moan simultaneously.

"F-fuck-!... You good sugar?" Joel whispered, in an unintentionally seductive tone, which made you clamp down on his length. "Fuck..."

"Yes, yes, yes, Joel-" You whined, absolutely losing your mind over the way he filled you up. "Fuck, ohmygod, please-"

"Shit," Joel growled and started to push in and out of you at a very gentle pace. "You feel so good- Oh Dolly, I'm gonna fuck you so good, darlin'-"

"Yes!" You cried out, tears at the corners of your eyes from the immense pleasure you were receiving. "I'm all yours- ahh~"

Being embarrassed by the noises you made was thrown out of the window a long time ago, thank goodness, otherwise you would've been a little too self-conscious about how loud you were and how much you talked or made noises in general. Joel was exactly in the same state, you two just couldn't keep your mouths shut even if you didn't say a word - neither of you were complaining about the other being loud, of course, it was delightful.

Your jaw hung open when he started going a little faster and harder, your mind going blank at how big and good he felt from this angle, the small bites you felt around the back of your neck wasn't helping your case in any way. You could only hold onto the pillows your head was resting on and moan into the soft material as he reclaimed what was always his.

You could tell he was having a hard time to not grab your hips, or ass, or any part of you; so you decided to spare him the agony and grabbed his wrist which was right next to your head: "Joel, oh- wait..."

"Did I hurt you?" He immediately froze on spot.

"No, no," You reassured him, a whisper of a moan leaving your bruised lips. "Help me up?"

He was confused at what you meant, but quickly got the idea once you pushed yourself on your knees. This position was particularly one of his favourites and you, despite your current state, wanted nothing more than to be railed by this man at the moment and he did it best when he held you close and slammed into you from behind.

You got on your knees and spread them wider, lowering your lower body down while you supported your upper with your arms; Joel immediately pressed his body against yours, hugged your frame with an arm across your chest and pushed into you once more, getting the loveliest sound out of you: "Look at you- couldn't even wait to heal properly..." He growled into your ear, biting the shell of it gently. He groped your breast with the hand on your chest and pinched your nipple between his pointing and middle fingers, which had you throwing your head back right onto the crook of his neck. He kissed your cheek as he continued pounding into you: "You like it when I fuck you like this, huh?"

"Yes," You whined, face twisted up in utter pleasure and somewhat overstimulation. "So good, Joel, so fucking good~"

You felt his hand, which wasn't on your chest, suddenly lift off the bed and sneak down to your clit, causing you to arch your back and have Joel deeper inside you, if that was even possible at this point and a few strokes to your clit had you coming undone around his cock with a high pitched moan.

"Shit," Joel growled and pulled out right before he came, spilling his seed all over your back and ass. The both of you saw the stars because of how powerful the orgasm was, taking a while to recollect yourselves and just panting and trembling. Joel tiredly reached for napkins which were on the nightstand and wiped you clean with them, gently turning you around and laying on your back. He rested his head right below the valley of your breasts, he couldn't seem to catch his breath; you ran your fingers through his hair slowly, looking at the ceiling then chuckling: "Was that too much for you, cowboy?"

He chuckled lightly: "No... maybe..."

You giggled at the exhaustion in his voice, then placed a kiss on the top of his head; a gesture which made him look up, then rise himself a little upwards so he looked directly down at you. You gave him a warm smile and a quizzical look, then, finally he whispered: "(Y/N)..."

"Joel?" You flashed your teeth at him when your smile widened. You really wouldn't know what to do without him, you could confidently say that he was the love of your life.

And, just like he had read your mind, with a shy smile stretched across his lips, he spoke, voice husky yet silvery:

"(Y/N), will you marry me?"

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